the bitter, the sweet
by Rochelle Allison
Summary: Bella's 24. She's got a career she loves, close family & friends, and a little girl she loves more than anything. She doesn't need anything more, but sometimes she sure wants it, and when Edward shows up he'll either upset the balance or make everything sweeter. A WitFit.
1. rocking chair

___**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization. **_

___**prompt - rocking chair **_

___**not sure what my posting schedule is going to be like, but the ideas are in my head and i just can't ignore them. so, here we go.**_

* * *

"I don't want it."

Bitter words, sweet mouth. Tyler has a sweet mouth.

"And...I don't think you want it, either." Sighing heavily, he shakes his head and looks at me.

He's got such blue eyes. We've been dating for six months but those eyes, when focused so intently on me, still affect me.

"Bella."

"Yes."

"You know the deal. Come on."

Frowning slightly, I avert my eyes. "Well, I mean. It was never something we discussed."

"Because it was never supposed to happen. But, listen. I'm not angry with you. Okay? I'm not."

The confidence that once attracted me feels more like arrogance, and if I'm honest, it probably always was. "Thank God for that," I say, irritated, letting the rising tide of hurt and anger wash through my words.

Tyler shifts, folding his arms. "You're not considering keeping it, are you?"

"It's not really an _it_, is it?"

He sneers. "Don't start that shit."

I close my eyes, rub my hands over my face.

"I get why this is hard for you," he continues. "But it...we can take care of this. I'll go with you, if you want."

My chest tightens, almost unbearably. This is unfolding exactly as I'd expected, and yet, it hurts way worse.

Minutes pass. Tyler is silent now, seemingly lost in thought, scrolling through his phone, probably answering texts and checking his Facebook and making plans. He smiles faintly from time to time, probably already moving on. His phone beeps, and he grins, shaking his head at whatever he's just read.

Nothing happens, but everything happens: a silent snap, a perfect numbness, a perfect clarity. I realize that this thing with Tyler is already over, that I'm quite fine by myself, and it's such a blessed relief from the past couple days of depression and uncertainty and pain.

I stand up, adjust my bag, and smooth my hair back. I allow myself one last glance at the guy I thought I could maybe fall in love with, one day, despite our different schedules and his travel plans and his perfect hair. He is handsome, but he is empty, and it's not because of what he's done or said today.

"Bella."

"It's okay, Tyler. I think...this wasn't going to last anyway."

He's following me to the door, fingers tightening around my arm. "You're seriously ending this because I don't want to have a kid with you? What - what are you doing?"

I'm tired. This conversation makes me more tired. The euphoria I felt moments ago is fading, and I don't want to be in Tyler's stupid loft when it's gone. "I'm doing what I would've done eventually. We don't belong together."

"If you do this, if you have this kid, I don't want to have anything to do with it. I mean it, Bella. This isn't my choice; it's not what I want."

That's shitty, but understandable. After all, it's the freedom of choice, isn't it? I make my choice, and he makes his.

"Fine."

* * *

_**four years later**_

* * *

Sue smiles up at me, face tender with love. I tiptoe over and pluck Charlie from her arms, cradling my girl against me. She's growing so quickly, lanky legs and skinny arms, but she still loves being rocked to sleep and Sue loves nothing more than obliging.

"How long have you two been there?" I whisper once we're in the hallway, Charlie tucked cozily in her bed.

"An hour or so." Sue shrugs, closing the bedroom door with a quiet click. "I tried reading her bedtime stories in bed, but she begged for the rocking chair."

That's my girl. I have a lot of memories of falling asleep in that chair, both during my pregnancy and after, and my daughter loves it just as much.

"Thanks for coming tonight," I say, helping Sue into her coat.

"No problem, sweetheart. Gives me something to do when your father has to work late. I don't mind it."

"Okay." I kiss her cheek and let her kiss mine, then watch from the door as she makes her way through the snow to her car.

The night is stark and silent, as it tends to be when snowing. I breathe it in, enjoying the stars and crispness until it's just too cold.

Inside, where it's warm and smells like cookies - thanks to Sue - I sit down at the kitchen table and start going over my schedule for the upcoming week. We have a wedding next weekend, and Emmett runs a tight ship in terms of prep. While having him as a boss makes sense - God knows he bossed me enough when we were growing up - it still tickles me. He's driven and professional nowadays, a far cry from the jokester quarterback he was in high school and the stereotypical frat boy he was in college.

I'm lucky to have him. Having a college degree doesn't guarantee employment, and I easily could've slipped through the cracks as a young, single mom. But Em didn't let me. He brought me on board the day I got back to town, promising it was my culinary skill, and not that I was his little sister, that got me the job.

We both know it's a little of both, though.

Yawning, I eye the coffee pot. It's late, and I should sleep, but I have a lot to do.

Coffee and cookies it is.


	2. lamb

**__****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Lamb

**Dialogue Flex: **"You would do that for me?"

* * *

My brother's backyard is twice the size of mine.

For one thing, he and Rose have a corner lot. Their front lawn's bigger because of this, too. But also, they're near the outskirts of town, where things tend to be more spread out. During the summer, that backyard is a lush, green sanctuary, dappled by a canopy of evergreens and oaks.

Right now, though, it's like everyone else's: sparse and white.

Charlie's making snow angels when I come to pick her up; Rose is taking pictures of her. I watch from the window for a moment, smiling when one of those photos hits my phone a minute later.

"I'm in the kitchen," I text back.

Rose squints down at her phone and then over at the house, grinning as she pulls Charlie up out of the snow.

I run most of my errands in the morning, both personal ones as well as for the business, so Auntie Rose babysits. Charlie loves it here, even when her older cousins are at school. Rose spoils her.

"Hi, Mommy," Charlie says breathlessly, flushed from play and cold.

"Hi, baby." I wrestle a kiss onto her cheek before she scuttles away, peeling her gloves and jacket off as she goes. "Put those in their special place, please."

"'Kay."

"Charlie."

She comes back, scrunching her nose, and picks up her stuff.

"How was she?" I ask Rose, giving her a quick hug.

"Great, as always."

"Yeah? She was a little cranky this morning."

"She's always good for me." Rose shrugs, filling the kettle with water and setting it on the stove.

"Yeah, because you spoil her," I laugh, sliding into a stool at the counter.

Rose smiles. "She's the baby."

On the way home, after a pretzel and several rounds of _Mary Had a Little Lamb, _Charlie falls asleep in her carseat. Her already messy ponytail loosens more, crowding her little face with long, brown curls. I can't bring myself to cut it. My dad says she looks a lot like I did at that age.

Yeah, my girl might look like me, but she's got her father's eyes. They are beautiful, probably his one redeeming feature. Sometimes it's almost hard to remember his face, but not his eyes.

At home, I carry Charlie to bed, prying her boots from her feet and letting them fall to the ground. I take her outerwear off and replace it with blankets, figuring she'll probably nap for a good hour at least.

"Mom," she breathes, still asleep. I tuck a teddy bear underneath her arm and back quietly out of the room.

Making several trips, I haul a week's worth of groceries from my car to the kitchen. It's a good day for white chicken chili, I think, so that's what I make, tossing ingredients into my slow cooker as I sip a glass of wine.

I'm washing my hands when Emmett calls.

"Hey, Em."

"Bella. Listen. Alice called..."

"Don't tell me," I say, shouldering the phone as I mince a head of garlic. Alice Whitlock is a wedding planner, and the woman coordinating this weekend's wedding. She's also a close family friend, which means she's always calling in favors.

"Yeah." He sighs heavily, the sound crackling over the phone. "Apparently there's been a change of venue -"

"_One week before the wedding?_" I put down my knife and stare at the wall. "Are they crazy?"

"The bride's always imagined the mountains. She's speaking up now."

"Whatever," I say, rolling my eyes. "So what do you need me to do?"

"We're moving everything up a day."

"Wonderful."

"I can probably call Maggie..."

"No. I've got this."

"Yeah? You would do that for me?"

"Emmett." I pour myself a little more wine.

"Excellent." His relief is palpable. "Nothing else changes. Sweets table is exactly the same."

"Thank God for small favors."

"Yeah, no kidding. All right. You rock, Bella. Let me know if you need anything."

"Will do."

There's a pause, and I can hear noise in the background, like traffic. "Heard Chuck had fun today. Rose sent me a couple of pictures."

I snort at the nickname. "Yeah. She's passed out now."

"Good. All right, talk to you later."

"'Kay. Bye."

We hang up. I give the chili a stir before covering it, and then grab my notebook and wine and sit down. Making notes as I go, I skim the list of items the bride wants for her sweets table. Besides the cake, there are custom cookies, salted caramel blondies, and several other sugary treats. I have a _lot_ of baking ahead of me, and the next few days are going to be frantic, but it's okay.

I work well under pressure; we all do, which is why Em's business continues to make a great name for itself in the community. I'm glad I get to be a part of it.

Em and two of his frat buddies started their catering company right out of college. One of them had a trust fund, conveniently, but still, they started small and have worked extremely hard to get to where they are now. Mike's still around. He's one of my favorite people, despite his tendency to flirt with me every chance he gets.

Edward, the other guy, left soon after they got their business off the ground. Apparently he's an athlete - soccer, I think - and when he got the chance to play overseas, he took it. I don't know; I've never met him. He sounds like a good guy, though, and I get the impression Emmett wishes he were still around, even after all this time.

"Mommy?" Charlie's sleep-husky voice drifts down the hall. I glance up at the clock, surprised to see it's been nearly two hours since we got home. Placing my glass in the sink, I make my way to her room.

* * *

_sorry so late. long day. tomorrow's will be on time._

_thx for reading!_

_xo_


	3. fool

**____****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Fool

**Plot Generator—Idea Completion: **Everyone's a critic.

* * *

"Mix, Mom. Please?"

"Not now, Charlie."

"_Mommmm_," she sighs, borderlining on whining.

"I said no. This isn't for us. I'll let you help me the next I make some for us."

Charlie scowls, then disappears, coming back seconds late with her step stool. I watch warily as she sets it up on the floor near the counter where I'm working. "Can I have some chocolate? Please."

"Nope."

She frowns, pushing her hair back from her face. "Just a little. A little bit."

"You had chocolate in your pancakes for breakfast."

"Yeah, but that was a loooooong time ago," she reasons, eyeing a pre-measured cup of chopped, high quality chocolate.

"It was barely two hours ago," I say dryly, dipping one truffle after another in extra chocolate. "If I have any left over, you can have it. Promise."

"Mom." She sighs, very dramatically. "Aunt Rose said..."

"Go watch Trotro for awhile."

"No, Mom. I don't want Trotro."

I remember when hearing her voice say my name was the sweetest thing I could imagine. Now, I hear it so much it drives me up the wall. I love this kid, but she's a handful.

She's three now, but she's damn precocious; her mood swings and commentaries put her on par with some of the teenagers I know. She's kind of brilliant, but sometimes that results in snark, and there's a fine line between witty and bratty at this age.

"Fine. You can watch me, but don't ask for anything else, okay? I'm on a tight schedule, here." I look at her, cocking my head. "That means I have a lot of stuff to do and not very much time to do it."

Nodding somberly, she eyes the chocolate one more time before stepping down. "I'm gonna watch Trotro."

"All right; give me a sec." Finished with the truffles, I drain the last of my coffee and wipe my hands. I grab a little mug with bubbly water - Charlie's favorite - and a small bowl of cut up strawberries.

"What do you say?" I set the snack down in front of Charlie, who's already sitting pretzeled in front of the boob tube.

"I was gonna say it," she says, cocking her eyebrow...the way I do. I laugh in spite of myself. "Thank you!"

"You're welcome." I kiss her head and hustle back to the kitchen.

* * *

"How's it going?" Emmett asks.

"It's all right. I'll be up most the night," I admit, yawning, "but I'll get it done."

"You're so damn stubborn, Bella. I knew I should've had Maggie pick up some of the slack."

"I like doing this, Em. It's okay."

"There's nothing noble about being a martyr," he sings.

"I'm not being a martyr," I say. "I really am fine. But... I'll enlist Maggie's help next time, if you want me to."

"Fair enough."

"How's it going on your end?"

"Fine. I just got off the phone with Mike; everything's ready for tomorrow."

"That's great," I say, impressed.

"That's the nice thing about working with a _team_, Lone Ranger."

After a few more minutes Rose calls him to dinner, so we disconnect. I round Charlie up, who is now reluctant to part from the very show she didn't want to watch earlier, and we pig out on leftover lasagna, compliments of Grandma Sue and Papa Charlie.

Charlie's thing these days is preschool. She wants to go. I've been looking around half heartedly, trying to find something part time, but it's hard. On one hand, having the guaranteed free time each day would rock. Charlie's a smart cookie, and I suspect she'd have a blast learning and playing with other kids her age. The selfish, sentimental part of me is terrified of this next step, though. It's admitting that my baby is no longer a baby.

I am every parental cliche. Ever.

"See?" Charlie says, fashioning her fingers into a shape. "Triangle. Diamond."

"Awesome sauce!"

"I know." She winks at me.

"Where'd you learn how to do that?" I laugh. "The winking, I mean?"

"Uncle Mike." She takes a big bite. "He said winking geffs the shicks."

"What? Swallow your food, dude. Don't talk with your mouth full."

"He _said_," she swallows, gulping down her milk for good measure, "that winking gets the chicks."

* * *

"I think the blondies should be on this side," Kate says.

The maid of honor, also Knower of All Things.

"And the cookies and brownie things -"

"They're truffles."

"Truffles...here..."

"I've already reviewed the setup with Irina. But thank you." I smile politely, hoping my irritation doesn't show.

She looks dubious, but wanders off, catching up with several other bridesmaids.

"Everyone's a critic, huh?" Alice says, rolling her eyes. "Man, I'll be glad when this shindig is over."

"That bad?" I move the cake over a quarter of an inch before standing back.

"I mean...it's typical. The bride's all right - barring this last minute venue bullshit - but Kate's a real piece of work. She's already talking about hiring me for her wedding next year and I just..." Alice shudders. "No. No way."

"Good to know. I'll make sure I tell Em."

"Oh, I've already filled him in." Her cell phone chirps, and she straightens up. "Gotta go. See you in a bit, Bella."

"Okay," I say, but she's already rushing off.

Once the sweets table is to my liking, I snap a quick picture of it with my phone and start to pack up. The reception is in about an hour and half, and I'd like to get going before guests start arriving. I wave to Em and Mike, who're overseeing the rest of the team, and head out out to the parking lot.

Adjusting my headset, I call Rose as I hit the interstate. The call goes to voicemail, which isn't surprising. It's a Saturday, so she's got her own kids as well as mine and their house can get a little rowdy. I head there anyway, figuring I'll just grab my girl and go home. There are leftover truffles - I did promise Charlie - and spiked hot chocolate with my name on it, and I can't wait to put on a movie and veg out.

There's an unfamiliar car in Em and Rose's driveway. Curious, I pull up alongside it. It looks like a rental. I try calling Rose again as I get out, stepping carefully over a puddle of melted snow.

"Bella?" she answers. It sounds like she's got an army of kids behind her.

"Hey. I'm at your place. Where are you?"

"I'll be there in ten minutes. I took the wild beasts to Wendy's..."

"Oh, okay. Um, whose car is here?"

"Em's friend is back in town. He's staying with us for a couple of weeks...Makenna, stop it! I told you to share!" I hold the phone away from my ear, shivering in the cold.

"Rose - "

"Hold on...Now! Give it back to him! Thank you! Sorry, Bella. Just go on in. I told Edward you might get there before I did. Sorry, I meant to call you..."

She's still rambling when the door opens.

Oh.

_Oh._

I don't know what I'm expecting, but it's not this. He's...he's... definitely not unfortunate looking. He's tall and kind of lean but...and there are tattoos...everywhere... I mean, he has a sweater on and I can still see them creeping up his neck. I don't know how I feel about that.

"I, uh, Rose, I'll see you soon." I hang up, clutching my phone to my chest. "Hi?"

"Hi...Bella?" He pushes his sleeve up and extends a hand. Yup; more tattoos. "Edward."

_Don't fool yourself, Bella. He's ridiculous._

_Ridiculously hot._

* * *

**_dedicated to girls like moni and the heathers (…that sounds like a band name), who have this major ~thing for Stephen James. _**

**_thanks for reading, guys. i love hearing from you._**

**_xo_**


	4. notorious

**__****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompts: **Notorious, victorious, inglorious

* * *

"Hi." I smile stiffly up at him, shaking his hand.

He eyes me, smiling the tiniest bit as he stands aside. "It's freezing."

"That it is." I brush past, abruptly aware of my harried appearance: frumpy layers, red face and messy hair. I probably look like Charlie after she's been roughhousing with Makenna and Embry.

"So _you're_ Emmett's sister," he says, and I swear there's amusement in his voice.

Wondering what my idiot brother could possibly have told this guy, I peel my coat off and leave it beside my wet boots. "Yeah, that's me - the notorious Bella Swan."

He starts toward the kitchen, slow, sexy strides...maybe it's more of a saunter...he's saying something. But I like his sweater. It's fitted, and soft looking, like his jeans, which sit low. It's all very nice. Very nice. I mean, if you enjoy spending tons of money on clothing. He seems like he would be the type. I bet his underwear are designer, too. Edward plays soccer; I bet he wears boxer briefs. Yeah, I've seen those David Beckham ads -

In the kitchen, he pauses, leaning against the counter, arms folded. His eyes...green...verdant...lush like Em and Rosalie's backyard in the summer...narrow. "Everything all right?"

He's got the slightest touch of an accent; just barely.

"I'm really sorry; I'm a little out of it," I say, realizing he was attempting to converse while I was busy judging and ogling. "It's been a long night, long day. Could you repeat that?"

"I said, it's nice to finally meet you. Em speaks highly of you."

"Ah. Thanks. He's been...great." It's an understatement. I remember finishing college, about to give birth, and knowing there was nowhere for me to go but home. Em and Rose, my father and Sue...they are my tribe. My family. They are Charlie's dad. "We got really close after college."

He nods, pushing his hair back from his face.

An awkward silence descends. I struggle to find something to say, some common ground, but there is none. We couldn't be more different.

"So you play soccer," I blurt out.

He nods shortly, face impassive.

"That's really cool. Are you on a break or something?"

"I tore my ACL a while back. It's a lot better, but there's still pain."

My eyes drop to his knee, and I realize that what I thought was swagger was probably extreme caution...and a slight limp. "Oh. That sucks. I'm sorry."

"So am I." He shrugs, dropping into a chair at the kitchen table. "I've had injuries before, but this, by far, has been the worst."

"Will you be able to play again?"

Edward's jaw tightens. "That's the plan."

His displeasure with the situation is obvious, and, eager to lighten the mood, I open the fridge. "Want a beer?"

"Sure...?"

"No worries; I practically live here." Straightening up, I open a bottle of Rose's latest IPA obsession and hand it over. "Welcome home."

Smiling a little, he clinks his bottle to mine. "Thanks."

* * *

Somehow I get roped into cooking dinner with Rose. Funny how good beer and even better company can do that.

Emmett, Mike and Edward are catching up in the living room, supposedly "keeping an eye on the kids", who are whooping it up like savages, thanks to sugar and - on Charlie's end - no nap. The TV blares obnoxiously, complimenting the screaming, laughing, and occasional crashes.

"They're ruining the house."

Rose shrugs. "Wouldn't be the first time, and anyway, Em's got 'em."

"I hope so."

Music starts up, loud. Charlie's hysterical giggles follow - at this rate she's probably not even going to make it to dinner. Rolling her eyes, Rose slides me my beer. "Relax."

Same conversation, different day. It's what we do. She and Em are forever encouraging me to _just chill_! as if it's that easy. As if I can just switch gears. Charlie's all I've got. I mean, my family is mine, but _Charlie_ is mine. Sometimes it feels like some weird dream or cosmic joke that I have, in fact, been given this little person to raise; I keep waiting for someone to see me as the fraud I must be.

"I'll try."

Rose nods. "Try harder."

* * *

"Mom."

I fluff her pillow, tuck the blanket in a little tighter. "What's up?"

"Edward is in trouble."

I frown. "Why?"

"He colored all over himself. Even his neck. Even his belly." She purses her lips, watching how I take the news of such inglorious offenses.

"How'd you see his belly?" I ask, trying not to think about how sexy that part of him probably is.

"Uncle Emmett," she says, stressing the "t". That's her new thing. _Emmettttt._

"Uncle Emmett showed you?"

"Yah. A picture on the internet."

When I finally get her settled down, after we've said prayers and adjusted night lights and left the door halfway open, I grab my laptop and flop into bed.

Google: Edward Cullen.

My stomach flutters. I feel slightly intrusive, like I'm cyber stalking this guy. I mean, I Google people all the time, but it's definitely different when I kind of know them. None of that matters when oodles of his images pop up on the screen, though. There he is, in his cocky, inked out glory, strutting around soccer - sorry, _football_ - fields over in England somewhere.

His body, what I can see of it beneath his panoply of tattoos, is flawless. As it should be. I mean, if I got paid to exercise all day maybe I'd have a six pack instead of this soft, still-blaming-the-baby belly.

Looks like he's had a good go of it, too, his team having one victorious season after another. There's an article about his injury, which I skim briefly. It seems optimistic he'll be able to return eventually, but then I look at the date and realize that it was written a year ago.

I'd wonder what he's doing here, but I think I know. I know what it's like to have Big Plans, only to have them derailed in an instant. Sometimes you just have to go back to where you started, go back to the people who support you the most.

I think of his face at dinner, how much he and my brother laughed as they reminisced. I hope he finds whatever he's looking for here, whether it's peace and healing or a new life altogether.

* * *

**_xoxo_**


	5. fever

******__****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Accurate

**Audio-Visual Challenge—Musical Mastery: **"Fever" by Peggy Lee

* * *

"So, Edward's staying after all. In town, I mean. He's getting his own place, though" Rose says, blowing her hair from her face. "Thankfully."

"You said he was an easy guest." I pass her another olive from my salad. We're at her favorite Italian bistro, on a rare, kid-free lunch date.

"He is. But it's still nice when you have your house to yourself, you know?" She shrugs, popping the olive into her mouth. "And anyway, Embry thinks he's getting a tattoo now which is like..._so not happening."_

"You said Edward's tattoos were sexy."

"Yes, Edward's tattoos are sexy on Edward."

"Does Em know?" I waggle my eyebrows.

"What, that I think his friend's tattoos are sexy? I said it in front of him."

"You're too much." Grinning, I push another olive onto Rose's plate.

She spears it immediately. "Why don't you just ask them for no olives?"

"I always forget."

"Hm. Anyway, don't act like you don't like them." She eyes me, somewhat coyly, and suddenly I just know she and Emmett have been discussing me and my spotty love life.

"Olives or tattoos?"

Rose rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, I...they're actually very cool. On him. It's very, you know. Famous."

Rose snorts into her seltzer. "You're such a lame liar."

"I'm not lying," I laugh, buttering a piece of bread. "He looks the part. You know?"

"Yeah." She nods slowly, looking down at her plate. "He's way more than that, though. You know that, right?"

Guilt prickles through me, because I have to admit I've judged him from day one. On one hand, he's so good looking it's surreal. He's sharp relief against the grey of other human beings, and that's just his face. Forget his FIFA perfect body or the designs covering his skin. I mean, all of that - _yes_ - obviously it plays into his appeal.

But on the other hand, it's difficult to relate to a guy like that. He's rich. He's used to a certain way of life. He's used to Europe, for God's sake. He doesn't have kids, which is no big deal - I probably would've waited a little longer in a perfect world - but still, he doesn't get what I go through on a regular basis, especially as a single mom.

"You of all people, Bella?"

Rose frank tone yanks me back to reality. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're usually the first one to give people a chance."

"What...what are we even talking about, Rose? You want me to like...what...get with Edward?" It's so preposterous that I bark out a laugh, earning a glance from the table beside ours. "Please. He's a bit out of my league, no pun intended."

"Ha, she's a funny one," Rose says, stealing the last olive from my plate. "I didn't say 'get with' him. I just...I think he thinks you don't like him."

Puzzled, I think back over the interactions we've had. Except for the very first time we met, we're always around Em, Rose, and a herd of children. "But we've hardly spoken."

"Exactly."

"Oh, please. He's been here for like two weeks -"

"Three, actually. Thank God he found a place."

Our server pops up, smiling. "Dessert?"

Considering my winter weight, I shake my head reluctantly. Very reluctantly. "Ah, no thank you."

"Yes, please," Rose says at the same time. She looks at me like I've lost it. "_You're_ saying no to dessert?"

"I'm getting a gut," I whisper harshly.

"Shut up. Just come to yoga with me."

"I don't do yoga -"

"That's why you're getting a gut." Rose smiles serenely up at the server. "The cannoli, please. And a tiramisu. We're sharing."

"You're a pushy bitch." I sigh. "But I really do want dessert."

"I know you do, babe. I know."

"So, did Edward say something about me? That made you think..."

"Well, first he wanted to know if you were always that serious, and then he asked if he'd offended you somehow. "

"When was this?" I ask slowly, hoping it's not what I think it is.

"The other day, when you came to get Charlie and he was doing laundry and you kind of just rushed past him and left."

"Oh." Biting my lip, I look down. "Yeah."

"Let me guess. He was shirtless. And you had some major feelings, and freaked out, and ran away."

"Okay, fine."

The desserts come. I take a huge bite of tiramisu, grateful for the sugary, emotional healing it provides.

"You totally want him," Rose cackles, licking whipped cream from her finger.

"I do. I'd hit it, Rose."

"Yes. Finally."

"Why are you aiding and abetting in my corruption?" I groan.

"Hardly, hardly, Saint Isabella. I just want you to have fun. Edward is a lot of fun - and I mean that in a totally non-sexual way. He's funny when he wants to be, and likes adventures. He tells great stories."

"I can imagine." I really can, too. He's done so much.

"I think...he knows how close you and Em are, and he's probably used to girls throwing themselves at him, and then you come along and you're just so..."

"Frigid."

"Laid back. And I think he's...curious about you."

"Did Emmett say something?" I ask on a hunch. Rose has way too much insight, here.

"He sees Edward checking you out. Like every time."

I blink, shocked at this news, but she barrels on ahead. "I had to..." Pausing, she shakes her head. "I had to tell him to stop being a dick because he was getting a little over protective, which at this age, is ridiculous. He loves Edward, but he loves you more, and he knows you barely make time to date. He doesn't want you getting hurt."

And just like that, I'm eleven years old and my older brother is telling me not to do something.

It just makes me want to do it all the more.

* * *

"You did not give me accurate information," I huff. "You said yoga, and you do yoga at home."

"Yeah, but Em bought me a membership to LA Fitness, remember?" She shoves a water bottle and little towel into her gym bag. "So I go there now. They've even got child care. I swear I've told you all this."

Maybe she has. Who knows. "But there are people there. Watching."

"No one watches, weirdo."

"Fine. But...I can just go as your guest?"

"For a couple times, yeah. Come on; I don't want to be late."

We hustle the kids into her truck and head over to the gym, which is gigantic and flashy and sort of reminds me of the movie Dodgeball.

I look around as Rose signs me in. There are two floors, a substantial cardio section, and an area for weights in the middle that extends toward the back. Apparently the classes are in the back, too, which is good. I'm hoping no one can see me when I'm in there, all spread eagle or ass up or whatever yoga will have me doing.

We get the kids situated, and then Rose leads me through the gym, jabbering about the fantastic options here, like the Olympic sized swimming pool and racquetball courts.

"I didn't know you played racquetball."

"I don't. But still. If I wanted to."

She's gushing about the sauna when a familiar design catches my eye.

Edward's doing weights over by a mirrored wall. Of course he'd be here. Bodies like that don't keep themselves. He's doing it real slow, facing his reflection, working his biceps. Pumping iron. Whatever; he's not wearing a shirt, which is why I recognized his tattooed back. Everything slows down. We're still walking, and Rose is still talking, but it's like we're underwater; her words fade until there's nothing, no sounds, nothing, but Edward Cullen, lifting, body glistening with sweat.

This is better than the fireman calendars my grandmother keeps in her home office. Way better. It's mesmerizing, in a vaguely porny sort of way.

I don't even care anymore. Judgment goes out the window. Having Rose call me out yesterday was enough to shake me out of my self-righteous cloud of bs anyway.

My thoughts must be screaming, because his gaze drifts my way. We make eye contact in the mirror, and he falters for a second.

_Oh, sweet Lord. Let me be the one._

Rose yanks me into a room full of yoga mats.

* * *

_quick note:_

_not everyone finds tattoos attractive. it doesn't matter if, by today's standards, they're no longer "exotic". different women find different looks appealing, and automatically assuming that all women must find them hot is generalizing. we like what we like. *shrugs* i have some readers that are not so into tattoos, others that adore them. i didn't want to write a Bella who was so bowled over by the innate hotness of edward's tattoos she had trouble keeping her legs closed. i actually love stories like that, personally, but they've been written._

_not being snarky here, just honest. i appreciate you guys so, so much._

_thanks for reading!_

_xoxo_


	6. parking lot

******__****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Parking lot

**Dialogue Flex: **"I hear big changes are on the way."

* * *

Yoga is supposed to be about centering one's mind, and focusing, and being present, but all I see when I close my eyes is Edward. I really hope he doesn't peek in here. The lights are off, thank God, but there's just glass between this classroom and the rest of the gym.

It doesn't help that I suck at this, too. Every where I look, bodies old and young are stretching and fashioning themselves into pretzels while I just kind of...try.

"The more you go, the easier it'll get," Rose promises as we leave.

I nod, pretending I'm not scouring the floor for colorful athletes.

"He's in the spinning room."

"You knew he was here. Conniving bitch."

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" She sweeps her hair into a neater ponytail. "I think you should try spinning, too."

"Isn't that cycling? My legs already feel like jelly after yoga."

"I'll take the kids; you should give it a go."

"No." I hurry ahead, reaching kid care before she does. Her judgyness emanates in waves. "You're being obnoxious, by the way. If and when I talk to Edward, it'll be on my terms and when I'm not sweaty and gross. Okay?"

"I love it when you have a backbone," she coos. "It's hot."

Rolling my eyes, I collect my child and wait for her to get hers.

* * *

Mr. and Mrs Gerandy celebrate their fiftieth anniversary this Sunday, and we've been hired to feed their guests. My job is to make a replica of the cake they had at their wedding. It's a sweet gesture, and I'm excited about it. Everything changes from generation to generation, and the popular cake trends of today differ from the ones of the sixties. It'll be a nice change of pace for me.

Mike calls me as I arrive at the craft store I usually go to for cake supplies.

"Hi, Mike."

"Hey, Bella. Is this a good time?"

Sighing inwardly, I make my way across the parking lot. That question usually precedes long conversations, and I'm not a big phone person. "I have a couple of minutes, yeah."

"Oh, okay. Good." He clears his throat. "I know things are hectic this week, but we have a couple of free days coming up and I was wondering if you'd like to take Charlie to that place in the city? With the hot chocolate she likes?"

My heart falls. Mike Newton is one of the kindest, silliest guys I know. He's cute, too, and very into me. He even adores my daughter. All of these things make him _excellent_ boyfriend material. And yet, I just can't. I'm not attracted to him in that way, no matter how much I wish I was.

We are friends, though. Close friends. Which is why these pseudo-date deals are the norm for us. "Um, sure. She'd love that."

"Great," he says, sounding relieved. That I seem to make him nervous makes me feel kind of shitty. I know what it's like to have unrequited feelings. "Tuesday?"

"Okay. Maybe early, before her nap?"

"Perfect. Good." He laughs. "Okay, Bella. See you soon. You need anything for the cake?"

"I'm all right. I'm actually at Hobby Lobby now."

"I'll let you go."

Technically, there is no reason for me to feel guilty, because I have never led Mike on. He knows where we stand; he's just...maddeningly persistent.

We hang up, and I quickly switch to the app I use for shopping lists.

* * *

"Mom. Mom! The doorbell!" - as if I didn't hear the doorbell.

Still, I give her a smile and ruffle her hair. "I heard it. Thanks, baby."

We go to the door and chime, in unison, "who is it?" even though I can see through the peephole that it's Edward. Shoot. I yank my ponytail free and run my fingers through my hair.

"Just a second!"

"Who is it?" Charlie asks, in the loudest whisper ever.

"It's Edward." I check my shirt for food - negative - and open the door. "Hi, there."

"Hi." He lifts the two grocery bags he's holding. I try, fruitlessly, not to envision him lifting other things, like weights, half naked. "Rose asked me to drop these off."

"Oh, okay." I motion for him to come in. He smells really good. "That was nice of you."

"It's fine. I've been running errands all day, anyway."

"Hiii, Edward," Charlie says conversationally, following us to the kitchen.

"Hey, Chuck."

She melts into a grin and I bite my lip before I do, too. "My Uncle Emmett calls me that."

"I know; he told me." Edward glances up at me, like he's asking if it's okay.

I shrug, smiling. "She was named after my Dad, and his nickname is Chuck, so..."

"Yeah." He averts his eyes, resting the bags on the counter. "Emmett told me that, too."

"You two are pretty chatty, huh," I say, cringing a little at how flirty that sounds.

I mean, I think it's flirty. Kind of. Damn, I'm rusty. Not that I'm _trying_ to flirt, it's just...he's got very expressive eyes. Twinkly. Like maybe he's flirting. Then again, he probably engages everyone this way. That's what charisma is -

" ...were busy. I hate when people drop in without calling," he's saying.

Crap. I'm never listening to this poor guy. Guess that's one of the hazards of looking as fine as he does.

"Right, yeah, me too."

He nods quickly. "I can go, I just -"

"No!" Charlie and I say at the same time. Well, she screeches, and I sort of breathlessly cry out. It's all very overdramatic. "No," I repeat, attempting to _just chill!_ for once. "I don't mind that you stopped in. It was awesome of you to deliver this stuff; I was expecting Rose anyway, so, it's not like I was busy. I mean, I've been busy all day, but I was taking a break." _Rambling, rambling._ "We just had lunch."

"Do you like hot dogs?" Charlie asks, hand on her hip.

"They're okay."

"They're fabulousss," she insists.

"Do you...want one?" I ask, pushing down the absurd nervousness. I mean, _really_. This is not my first rodeo.

"Sure." He smiles and takes a seat at the counter. Charlie disappears, probably going back to her Endless Alphabet app.

"So. I hear big changes are on the way," I say, setting bottles of ketchup and mustard down in front of him. "You're moving, right? Rose said you found a place?"

"You two are pretty chatty, huh?" he says, smirking.

My face goes hot, but I decide to own it. "Yeah. Always have been."

He settles back in his chair, watching me. "I did find a place. That's actually what I've been doing today - moving my stuff. Not that I have very much here. The rest is in transit."

"So you really are staying."

"For now."

His uncertainty is catching, making me feel unsettled. "You're from around here?"

"Pretty much. Grew up not far from where I met Em."

It's crazy how two people from the same place can grow up to live such extraordinarily different lives.

"Are your parents still around?"

"Well, they live out in the country now. It's pretty, but not for me."

"I get that." I slide his hotdog onto a bun and set the plate down in front of him. "Voila."

"Merci." He grins, eyes crinkling and wow, it's pretty. So pretty.

"Do you have kids?" Charlie asks, back in the mix.

"No, I don't."

"When you have kids, we can play," she muses, wandering over to the pantry. "I need a snack, Mom."

"Magic word."

"Please."

"Okay. But only a little, because you just ate."

"A little chocolate."

I grab a tiny bowl and pour a handful chocolate chips and peanuts into it. "Don't eat it in your room, okay? Coffee table."

"Okay."

I grip the bowl, not relinquishing it until she thanks me and runs off.

"You're a good mother."

His words muddle me up inside. I turn to find him observing me, the hotdog already gone. I never know what to say to that. I want to tell him he caught a good moment, that there are plenty more when I yell, or drop the ball, or allow too much TV, or pray for just five minutes of peace.

"Thanks."

He nods, wiping his mouth. We stare at each other for a second. I wonder if he's thinking about the gym, seeing each other there. I look away first. "Do you want another hotdog?"

"No. I should probably get going."

"You don't have to." What am I saying? "I'm just...making rosettes. If you, I mean, I know you're busy." I swear I'm college educated. I can formulate actual sentences. Taking a deep breath, I turn to wash my hands.

"What are rosettes?" he asks, all at once very close.

Heart, pounding. I feel it in my throat. "Icing. Flowers for the top of the cake."

"Oh. I loved those as a kid."

At the counter I reserve for work, I show him the lightly tinted rosettes I've been making all morning. One is slightly chipped, and the perfectionist in me probably wouldn't have used it for the cake anyway, so I offer it to him.

He accepts, examining it, fingertips brushing against mine. "Everyone fought over these. At birthday parties."

He pops the whole thing into his mouth, and I turn away, not able to watch that mouth for any longer. "That brings back memories," he says, and I can hear his smile. "Can I have another one?"

I give him two, tickled. He's like a kid. Like Charlie.

"I'm surprised you're even eating any of this stuff."

"Why?" He wanders the kitchen as he munches, looking at my assortment of mixers, cake stands, fondant cutters, spatulas.

"Just. You're so...healthy seeming."

"I'm sure it's fine. Don't you eat this stuff?" he teases.

"Well, yeah." I give him a look. "But I think it's safe to say our lifestyles are pretty different. You're very sporty and I'm very..."

He swallows, stopping to stand inches in front of me. "Sweet."

* * *

**_these wit fits are not beta'd, so mistakes are inevitable. let me know if you spot any, and thanks for those that have! :)_**

**_thanks for reading._**

**_xo_**


	7. seam

******__****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Seam

* * *

Edward takes a step back, sliding his hands into his pockets.

"Thanks for lunch," he says softly, the littlest smile gracing his mouth. His eyes flicker over me, like he's taking me in, seeing me for real for the first time.

I know, because that's what I'm doing. Being this close in proximity is exhilarating and nerve wracking, but it's nice to be able to really look at him.

"Is that from soccer?" I ask, pointing to a little scar by his eyebrow.

"Mhm." His smile grows, but he tamps it down.

"Oh."

He nods.

We stand there like goons for a moment, surrounded by warm, sugary, buttery smells. Charlie's migrated to the living room - I know because now Peppa the Pig is giggling throatily about something in that awesomely British way that I love.

"I love Peppa the Pig," I murmur.

Edward cracks a full on smile. "I don't even know what that is."

"A cartoon." I tuck my hair behind my ears and step back, glancing at the clock above the stove.

"You've got work to do," he says, eyes following me. He's observant, much more than I'm used to. People...we tend to be self absorbed. I know I can be, anyway. Edward's refreshingly - and startlingly - not like that.

"I do." I wish I didn't. I wish you could just stay. I wish I could kiss you, just to know what it was like, and then press rewind...so I didn't have to deal with any repercussions or expectations or weirdness. "And, you do too, I take it."

"Yeah." He nods, roughing his hands through his hair. "Thank you for lunch, Bella."

"Any time." Really. Any time. Jeez. "Thank _you_ for dropping these supplies off."

"Any time," he says, winking.

My stomach flips, and he's walking away, poking his head inside the living room to say good bye to Charlie, who gives him a sleepy wave. I walk him to the door, giving him a shy little wave of my own, forcing myself to just close the door and not watch the man walk away even though I'm as confused, conflicted and giddy as a fourteen year old girl.

Because yes.

Yes, winking does get the chicks.

* * *

After lots of online research, phone calls and impromptu visits, I find a preschool I think will suit Charlie. She can go part time, just a few mornings a week, if we want. A couple of weeks pass without snow, and though it takes a little longer for the temperature to warm, I swear I can feel spring coming.

One sunny, crisp day I take Charlie to meet her new teacher - her first teacher. I'm not as emotional as I thought I'd be, thankfully. My daughter is a maniac, rushing excitedly inside and squealing goodbye before I've even had the chance to settle her in.

"You're lucky," says, her hand on my arm. "They're not all this eager to come their first day."

"She's really independent, I guess." Okay, maybe I am a wistful.

It's good, though. She's a go-getter, I think.

After giving her a hug, and letting her know that I love her, I leave. Like any parent, I assume, I'll always feel a little incomplete when she's not physically with me, but it's also freeing. I run errands for the business all morning, fielding a couple of phone calls while I do.

I'm getting off the phone with Mrs. Gerandy, who called to thank me yet again for their cake - when another call comes through. I say goodbye and switch over, not surprised to hear Mike's voice.

"Hey, Bella."

"Hi, Mike. How's it going?"

"Going good. Just finished booking the next two weekends. I'm sure Em'll tell you all about it."

"Yeah." I pull up to my house and get out, enjoying the sun on my face.

"So listen..."

Oh no. i know what's coming. We're long overdue for our "friendly" lunch dates, and now I can't use Charlie as a buffer because she's in school.

"...a date?" He pauses. "With me?"

"I can't."

"Oh. Okay. Is...everything all right?"

"Yeah. Yeah. It's just..."

I'm single. There's no one. Well, that's a lie. There's Edward, my ongoing fantasies starring him, and the suspicion that he likes me back. More than a suspicion...ever since my talk with Rose I see him through new eyes. How he's usually looking at me when I look at him. How he sits beside me when we all go to Em and Rose's place for dinner. How he offers to drive when I offer to grab beer or dessert or French bread for said dinners.

But _still_, I am single. And yet, no - I can't, Mike. I can't. Because you're catching feelings, shoot - you've had feelings forever, and you should just...find someone who is emotionally available.

"I think that," I begin, delicately, "we should probably focus on work. Stuff. I love you Mike, but...I feel like..." For the love of God, Bella, spit it out. "...we should remain professional. Friends."

"Professional friends?"

"Yes." I scrub my hand over my face. "Professional at work. Friends out of work."

He laughs, but it's hollow. "I thought that's what we were doing."

"I can't go out with you, Mike."

"I get it. That's cool."

It's not, but we're going to pretend it is.

"Ok."

"Ok."

"I'm gonna go, Mike."

"No worries. Give Chuck a hug from her Uncle Mike, okay?"

"Will do."

We hang up. Anxiety gives way to relief. I did the right thing.

* * *

Edward passes the salad.

I accept, schooling my face into something neutral when our skin touches. It doesn't have to, but he makes sure it does, every time.

There's an empty spot at Em's dinner table: Mike's. He's been coming around a little less since our talk. I understand why, but I feel kind of guilty anyway.

Then Edward asks for the butter, and I remember that unless I'm feeling _just like this_, there is no point. The last time a guy made me feel this crazy inside he ended up getting me pregnant.

Aaaand that is _so not a road I need to go down_! Mayday, mayday!

"Mom?"

"Yeah?" My voice is shaky. Thankfully everyone else is too caught up in conversation to notice the crazy going on over here.

"I ripped my shirt," she says mournfully, pointing to the seam of her little v-neck.

I love Old Navy, I really do. But it can be so cheap sometimes, I swear. Doesn't help that Charlie's a serial thread-puller, hole-widener, plucker of buttons and all around clothes abuser.

"Darn," I sigh, eyeing it. "Okay, just leave it for now. Aunt Rose can sew it."

"You need to learn to sew," gripes Rose, overhearing.

"We all have our talents," I say. "And that's not one of mine."

"Too bad," Edward says.

I side eye him. "Why?"

"I got a jersey that needs fixing."

"Pretty sure you can afford a new one."

"It's lucky."

"You really believe in that stuff?" I laugh.

Emmett straight up guffaws, hammering his fist on the table. "Bella, come on! I know you don't watch sports, but...this is basic."

"No more beer for you," Rose says under her breath, sliding his bottle away.

He catches it, swigs back the last of it, and points the empty bottle at me. "In fact, you should watch a game. Edward's got videos."

"No," groans Edward. "That's -"

"A great idea," Rose says, smirking.

"You have videos?" Charlie asks, sidling up beside Edward, resting her hands on his lap. "Peppa the Pig?"

"No -"

"Spongebob?"

"C'mon, Chuck. Let's go watch a soccer game," Emmett booms, really getting into it now. Yeah, it's been awhile, but I remember this aspect of his personality. It's the same one that used to do keg stands and toilet paper people's houses.

I glance over at Edward, but he's just sitting there in resignation.

"We don't have to watch it if you really don't want to." I don't want him to be bummed out. Or embarrassed.

"It's okay. It's just...cheesy to watch your own games."

"Like you've never watched yourself," I tease. "Give me a break."

"I have." He stands, collecting his plate, and then mine before I can protest. "But it was to better my game, see where I made mistakes so that I could correct them before next time."

"Oh."

The TV is on in the living room. Charlie's chattering away, a mile a minute, and now Embry and Makenna are in there, yelling for us to hurry so they can start.

Watching Edward in action is the sexiest thing I've ever seen. I'm glad I was never a groupie, or some girl living over there watching games live. I might have been tempted to throw my respect out the window and chase him down.

His game is fantastic. I'm not even into soccer and I can see how talented he his. He explains the game to me in a quiet voice, patiently answering my questions. The kids wander out after awhile, and then so do Em and Rose (rather deviously, I think).

The recording ends. Edward clicks the television off and sits back, silent.

I look at how he rests his hand on his knee. "You miss it."

"Every day."

"How long did you play?"

"Professionally, six years. But I've been playing since I was little."

"I'm sorry."

He nods slowly. "It is what it is."

* * *

**_tomorrow, Sunday, is "reflection day" - no prompt. see you Monday, and thanks for reading! _**

**_xoxoxo_**


	8. catastrophe

******____****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Catastrophe

**Plot Generator—Binding Blurb:** In 500 words or fewer, write a blurb or a short entry about** a rainy Monday.**

* * *

Charlie runs from the dining room, dragging an amused Sue along behind her. She's anxious to show off the new bed linens I got her, a spontaneous little gift for doing so well her first week at school.

Dad settles back in his chair, smiling in well fed contentment. He and Sue usually come over for dinner a couple of times a month, which is a nice respite from our hectic lives. I've had to learn to carve out time for rest and relaxation - and, lately, yoga with Rose - because otherwise I'll run myself ragged. I get it from my father - he's as busy as I am with work.

"Bella," he begins, smirking at his napkin. "Who's Edward?"

My chest squeezes uncomfortably. "Emmett's friend?"

"You asking or telling?" he teases, glancing up at me.

"You probably know him," I say, shrugging. "He and Em went to school together. Remember? They were in the same fraternity with Mike?"

"Ah, the trust fund kid," he says, smoothing his fingers over his mustache. "Thought he was overseas, playing sports."

"He was. He, uh, tore his ACL and came home to recoup for awhile."

He cringes in sympathy. "Those don't always heal properly. He plan on playing again, or is he done?"

As always, this topic makes me feel so conflicted. Part of me wants to see Edward happy and doing what he does best - play. The other part of me is selfish, and knows that soccer would probably take him away again.

I've tried...really tried... not to care, but it seems my feelings have a momentum all their own.

"I don't know," I say, eventually. "He wants to. Says it's his goal."

Dad nods thoughtfully.

I push my fork through the leftovers on my plate. "Anyway, why do you ask?"

"About Edward?"

"Yes."

"Charlie must have mentioned him twelve times between the grocery store and here."

Closing my eyes, I shake my head. "She...might be a little infatuated."

"Judging by your red face, I say you might be, too."

"Dad."

"Just callin' it like I see it, Bella," he chuckles.

Grimacing, I stand to clear the table, shooing him off when he tries to help. Ignoring me, he grabs what I leave behind and follows me into the kitchen. "He a nice guy?"

"Surprisingly, yes."

"Why surprisingly?"

"Because." I slide the dishwasher open and start loading. "Sometimes professional athletes can be a little...full of themselves." As if I know so many. "But he's not."

"All the same, you be careful, all right?"

If I was any more careful I'd be wearing a chastity belt, but I just nod. "I know."

* * *

Monday morning dawns dark and rainy. It makes getting out of bed nearly impossible, but I manage, yawning through a shower and my morning routine. My kid's as chipper as ever, chattering all through breakfast and on the way to preschool. I swear, if I could bottle her energy, I wouldn't need coffee.

Once I'm on my own, I touch bases with Emmett. We had a busy weekend and there's another coming up, so we're eager to communicate and discuss what went well versus what might need work.

"So what else is new?" I ask somewhat absentmindedly, waiting at a light. It's not like I don't see Emmett all week long.

"Not much...actually, no - Mike!"

"What?"

"Mike. He's dating that girl from the Sadler wedding..."

"The cute little bridesmaid? With the curly hair?"

"Yeah. I guess they ran into each other at Starbucks or something. Crazy, right? I always thought he had a thing for you."

"He did. But generally these things have to be mutual in order for there to be a spark."

"A spark, huh?" Emmett snorts. "Yeah. Okay."

"So." I clear my throat, intent on moving on. "Rose asked me to babysit tonight. Said you were going out?"

"Right, yeah. Our anniversary's Sunday, but we're gonna be all wrapped up in the gala downtown."

"Ugh; don't remind me."

"Maggie's helping you this time - no arguments."

"I know, I know."

"But, so, you can watch the kids tonight? I want to bring Rose to that new steakhouse she was talking about."

"Of course. You guys watch Charlie all the time."

We lull into a comfortable pause. I want to ask about Edward, because I haven't seen him in a few days, but I'm reluctant. Em knows there's a vibe between his friend and me - even if Rose wasn't all up in the sauce, he isn't blind - but verbalizing it will be awkward.

But I have no self control, so, "How's Edward?"

"Good, I guess. He's in LA."

"Oh..."

"Guess he's got friends down there. He's been gone all weekend, but I think he gets back tomorrow."

I'm surprised at how disappointed this makes me.

Because if I'm honest with myself, Edward and I are nothing more than acquaintances. Our connection is a direct result of Emmett, and beyond that, there's nothing. This is a painful realization, given that I put a lot of mental energy into thinking about him, and suddenly I'm embarrassed.

I might think of him all the time, but I doubt he thinks of me. Because if he did, he would have told me he was leaving town.

Right?

_Does it even matter, Bella?_

* * *

By nine o'clock, the children are asleep, sprawled out on blankets and sleeping bags in Charlie's room. Charlie's bedtime is eight, but it was impossible to quiet her down with Makenna and Embry riling her back up.

My living room is a catastrophe, the floor covered beneath Lincoln logs, Barbies, blocks and Charlie's DVD collection. Normally I have little patience for this crap, but tonight getting the wild beasts down was more important than making them clean up their mess. I'm nearly done restoring order when the doorbell rings, startling me.

Em and Rose aren't due back for another couple of hours, so I hope everything is okay. Glancing at my cell phone to make sure I didn't miss any calls or texts, I look through the peep hole.

And then, thanking God I didn't change into my PJs, I open the door to Edward. He's damp, from the rain, and wearing the hell out of these really great jeans...great on him, at least... and a jacket. He looks very...L.A. In a good way. Man, in _such_ a good way.

"Hey, Edward."

"Hey. I hope it's not too late..."

Swallowing, I nod and wave him in. "I thought you were out of town."

His eyes are red, like he's stoned or just extremely sleep deprived. "I just got in." He looks at his phone, wincing at the clock. "Shit, it is late. I'm sorry, Bella."

I touch his arm. "It's fine. Come on."

We navigate through the living room, careful to step around Zookeeper Barbie and her menagerie. "So...is everything okay?"

"Yeah. I didn't want to go home just yet."

That kickstarts my heart, and I mean it's _pounding_. Zero to sixty, like _that_. Ugh.

"Okay." I nod like a bobble head. "Do you want a cup of coffee? Tea?" Or me?

"Why, were you going to have some?"

I was going to have a glass of wine, but I can't be held responsible for my actions if I mix alcohol and Edward.

"Yeah," I lie. "Tea. Chamomile. It's, you know, relaxing. Not that you need relaxing."

"I'm all about relaxing."

I peek at him again. "Are you high?"

"No," he laughs. "Haven't touched that since college. Why, do I look high?" He gets up and wanders to a decorative mirror I have hanging on the wall. "I look like shit."

"Yeah, you're hideous." Rolling my eyes, I make my way into the kitchen. "So chamomile's okay?"

"If that's what you're having."

"You don't have to be so polite, you know," I huff. "Just, say what you want."

"I hate chamomile."

"I bet you hate hot dogs, too," I mutter, retrieving a box of mint tea. "This okay?"

"More than okay. Thanks," he says, folding his arms as he leans against the counter. "And I do like hot dogs. You make good ones."

Trying to ignore how his presence makes me shaky inside, I pour water into the kettle and set it to boil. Edward sets a little bag down on the counter beside me.

I pick it up, peeking inside. "What's this?"

"Open it."

It's a coffee mug with Peppa the Pig's face on it. It's stupid-cute, and it makes me smile from the inside out. "I can't believe you remembered that."

"I'd say it was for Charlie, but, she doesn't drink coffee, does she?"

Biting my lip, I look up at him. "Thanks."

Nodding, he begins wadding the bag up.

And I just, I have to know. I'm not good at this in-between stuff. I thought I was, but I'm not. "How come...you didn't mention you were leaving?"

He cocks his head, aiming that laser gaze right at me. "I guess I didn't think it mattered? It was just a couple of days."

I nod, knowing it's true.

"Didn't think you'd notice," he adds.

"I noticed."

Putting down the bag, he takes a step closer. And then another. We look at each other for longer than what's appropriate, and I know he's going to kiss me. It will be dreamy, and unreal, and it might be the best kiss I've ever had, and it might be the last time I see him because things like this don't happen, but -

He leans in, putting his hands on either side of me, resting them on the counter top. We're not even touching, but there's intimacy in this closeness... and it's causing such a ruckus in me. He's so close I can smell him - faint cologne, detergent - and see the circles under his eyes. But I can also how pretty those green eyes are, how intently they regard me.

_You should model, Edward. You're gorgeous._

He's asking questions with those eyes. I hope he sees the big, blinking yes in mine.

Bending close, he brushes his nose against mine. My eyes close. Our lips, finally, touch. He kisses me very slowly, lips soft against mine. Over and over. I reach up, sliding my hands up his chest and around his neck.

He very gently bites my bottom lip. The sweet sharpness of it makes me breathe a little harder, and he slips his tongue into my mouth.

The kettle goes off after a minute, but he just shoves it off the burner and goes back to kissing me, finally pushing his whole body against mine.

* * *

_**do me a favor and listen to This Wild Life's "Sleepwalking". it's…very this edward and bella. ok? ok.**_

_**much love. thank you, so very much, for every review. i love it. love it!**_

_**xoxoxo**_


	9. spiral

**********__****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Spiral

**Dialogue Flex: **"Balance is the key."

* * *

Edward slides his lips to my ear. "Hey," he whispers.

My eyes open slowly. "Hey."

But he doesn't say anything else. He just backs up and looks at me, smiling a little.

"I've wanted to kiss you for along time," I say, and my voice shakes just a little.

"You didn't kiss me," he says, running his thumb over my lip. "I kissed you."

More staring, searching each other's eyes. I fist his shirt and pull him back, kissing him again. He wraps his arms around me, holding me close, big hands warm on my back. It's slow, and wet. And so good.

A little too good. Rein it in, girl. _Rein it in!_ I end it before I lose control, kissing the corner of his mouth.

Averting my eyes, I loosen my grip. "Do you...still want tea?"

His lips curve. "Not really."

"Yeah, me neither." We're definitely not having wine, though, either. Not after...all of that. It's been a long time for me and guys like Edward don't come around often...kissing could spiral right into counter sex and with my luck Em and Rose would be banging on the door and then Em would remember his extra key...

Blinking, I yank myself back to reality right in time to catch the Edward's glance at the clock again.

"Do you have to go?"

"Do you want me to go?" he asks, inclining his head toward the door.

"No." I bite my lip, forcing myself past this adolescent-esque nervousness. "We could...hang out. Watch a movie? I have to stay up - I'm babysitting for Em and Rose. They'll be here in a bit."

"A movie sounds good." He nods, and if the thought of my brother seeing him affects him, he doesn't show it.

And honestly, I don't think it does bother Em. It comes down to having things I want to keep to myself, no conversations or explanations or big reveals. I want this to be mine for awhile, whether _this_ was a one time deal or the beginning of something.

I can't lie: I want it to be a beginning.

Grabbing two bottles of water, we return to the living room, where I motion for him to sit while I look for the remote.

"Ouch," he mutters, shifting off of a dinosaur hiding between the pillows. He holds up the remote, too.

"Sorry; this place is a mess."

"I've seen way worse," he says, shrugging. "At least you can blame it on the kids."

"Why, are you the messy type?" I tease, sitting beside him. I leave a little space between us, though really I want to be all up on him. What did Rose say last week? Climb him like a tree?

Edward smirks at me.

"What?" I ask, my face warm as I realize that yet again I've spaced out.

"Where d'you go?" he asks, gently taking the remote and turning the TV on.

Covering my face, I laugh. "I...I totally get lost in my head. I'm sorry, Edward. It's a bad habit, and one I've had since I was a kid."

"I can think of worse habits," he says.

"Like what, picking your nose?"

Snorting, he sits back, resting his arm along the back of the couch. "Among other things."

We fall silent again. Hyper-aware of his eyes on me, I scroll through my movie channels. Seems he hasn't seen anything. Like, at all.

"I'm usually too busy," he says, running his free hand through his hair. "This is nice, though. It's good to relax."

One of the Bourne movies is on, and those are always awesome. We settle in to it, watching and commenting from time to time. It feels natural, being here with him.

Edward's thumb brushes back and forth over the back of my neck. It's so soft it almost tickles, but mainly it just turns me on. I finally glance over at him, only to find he's already watching me.

"Come here," he murmurs.

"Or you could come here."

It's all the invitation he needs. He slides on over, takes my face between his hands, and kisses me like we never stopped.

* * *

Rose's tired smile transforms into a full on Cheshire cat grin when she spies Edward on the couch. Her eyes flicker back to me, no doubt taking in my pink cheeks and messy hair.

"Well hello, Edward," she purrs, pushing past me. "Looks like you got roped into babysitting duty too, huh?"

"It was my pleasure," he says, and I couldn't be more mortified with these two if I tried.

"Okay, so, they're in Charlie's room," I say to Rose, pointing down the hall.

Emmet strides in right then, nodding at Edward. "Hey, man. You back already?"

Edward stands, and they perform a man hug, complete with a mutual back thumps. "Yeah. Opted for an earlier flight."

Em nods, glancing over at me. "Cool."

I keep my eyes trained on him. "Yup."

"All right, lemme grab these two," he says, disappearing down the hallway, Rose in tow.

I sit back down beside Edward, not bothering to leave any space this time.

* * *

Charlie eyes my coffee mug with great interest. "Mom. That's Peppa."

"I know." Nodding, I take another sip of coffee. "It was a present."

"A present?"

"Yup."

"A birthday present?"

"No, just a present." I peek at her. "From Edward."

"A birthday present from Edward?"

"My birthday is in September, baby. This was just a nice every day present."

She frowns. "But _I_ love Peppa."

I hide my smile behind my mug. "I love Peppa, too."

After dropping her to school, I head over to Rose's. She's been hell bent on getting me my own gym membership, so today's the day. We make small talk while she gets ready, grabbing water bottles and towels.

"You need to get your own towel," she says, as we get into her truck.

"Why, when you always provide so readily?"

"Mhm." She reverses out of the driveway, glancing at me. "So, what happened with Edward last night?"

I turn my face toward the window. "We kissed."

"I knew it! I told Emmett...I could so tell. You looked...well kissed when you answered the door."

"What does that even mean?" I chuckle, shaking my head.

"Just. Guilty and blushy and...messy."

"Sounds like three of the seven dwarfs..."

"_Anyway_, it's about time. Wow." She sighs, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. "How was it?"

"So good. I wanted to throw him down on my carpet and go."

"Haha!" she cackles. "Well, good for you. He's so hot, Bella. You deserve a little fun."

Her choice of words makes my belly churn with uncertainty. "I...I don't know if I want fun, though. I mean I want it, but it's not all I want. See, this is why I don't date. I'm going to come on too strong and he'll think I'm a psycho looking for a dad for Charlie -"

"Is that what you're looking for?"

"No! Jeez. I can't even think that far ahead."

She touches my hand. "I think it's good that you're careful. Whoever you date will inevitably be a part of Charlie's life. Edward already is - I think she has a little crush." She snorts. "As much as a three year old can crush."

Images of last night wash over me. I can't regret it - I don't. I want it again and again, and I want more. But I don't want to deal with the aftermath if things go south. Or if he leaves.

"What if he goes back to playing soccer?" I ask, staring at my hands.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

I side eye her. "I can't wait til we get to it."

The gym appears up ahead, and Rose gets into the turning lane. "Look. Like with anything worthwhile, there's going to be a risk. But you can't live this half-life of fear and loneliness just because you're afraid of getting hurt.

"Okay, Oprah."

"Shut up, Bella. Just roll with it. Balance with key, right? You can enjoy yourself and have a relationship without planning a white wedding. Just -"

"I know, I know. Just chill."

She pulls into a space and jumps out, meeting me at my side. "I get it, okay. I think you're totally right to take it slow and be careful. You are an amazing Mom."

Her unexpected words make my eyes prickle with tears. "Thanks."

"I'm serious. I just want you to enjoy your life."

"I do enjoy it." I give her hand a squeeze and we make our way inside.

My eyes drift automatically toward the weights as we walk past. Edward's there, and he's got a shirt on today, which is too bad but apparently a gym rule. He's doing legs, but when our eyes meet he slows to a stop.

I'm already walking his way, leaving Rose behind.

* * *

**_xoxoxoxo_**


	10. smudge

******__****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompts: **Budge, grudge, smudge

* * *

"Yoga?"

"Yeah." I tug on my tank top, smoothing it. "It's, uh...I'm getting into it. Like Rose said I would."

He nods. "That's good. You should take care of yourself."

Shrugging, I look down at my shoes. "I'm trying."

He reaches for my hand and tugs me closer. "You busy later?"

"Like tonight?"

"Yeah."

"Just finishing up an order for Friday. My friend Maggie's coming over; she's our pinch hitter when things get hectic." I give his hand a squeeze. "Why?"

"I'd like to take you to dinner."

Not what I was expecting, but awesome nonetheless. Smiling, I nod. "That would be nice. Can we maybe...try for Saturday?"

"Definitely."

"Okay."

"Okay."

Inside my purse, my phone vibrates. I let go of Edward's hand to retrieve it, peering down at the screen. "That's Rose...class is starting. I have to go. Call me or something."

"Can I get your number?"

"Oh, right." Laughing a bit, I scroll to my keyboard. "Give me yours; I'll call you right now."

* * *

"I'm really sorry," Alice rasps.

"Aw - it's okay! I hope you feel better."

She mumbles a good bye and I hang up, sighing. Maybe this is a sign. Alice was my last hope for a babysitter and she's pretty sure she has the flu.

Emmett, Rose and the kids are at the shore for the weekend and Sue took Dad to her family's annual reunion. Alice is the only other person I'd ever ask to watch Charlie, and now she's puking her guts out.

My eyes slide to the clock. Edward is picking me up in an hour. At least, he's supposed to be.

"Hey, Bella."

"Hey...so, I don't think I'll be able to come out tonight after all. I'm really sorry."

He's quiet for a moment. "You standing me up?" he asks, teasing but maybe a little disappointed too.

"I'm so sorry, Edward. All of my regular babysitters decided to leave town at the same time and the one friend who'd agreed just called to say she was sick."

"You've got no one to watch Chuck?"

"No."

"So bring her."

Images of spilled juice, tantrums and irritated restaurant patrons spring to mind. "Oh, no. I couldn't. That's sweet of you to offer, though."

"Come on; what's the worst that could happen?"

Well, there was the time she upchucked at IHOP because she didn't like the sausage touching her pancakes.

"Bella?"

"I don't want her to...ruin things."

"She won't. I'll be there soon, okay?"

"Where are we going?" I ask, but he's already hung up.

Ignoring my growing sense of trepidation, I peek in on Charlie, who's playing with her stuffed animals. "So, Miss Alice got sick. She can't come over."

Charlie scowls, holding out her hand. "But she was gonna paint my nails. Yellow, Mom."

"I know. Sorry, Kiddo." I sit beside her on the bed, tugging her braid. "But guess what?"

"What."

"Edward's taking us out to dinner."

She beams up at me, pleased as punch. "Okay."

"Okay. Let's change out of our jammies."

Charlie pushes her way to the closet, yanking several dresses from their hangers. "This one, Mom." It's a yellow sundress.

"This one's getting a little small," I say, tossing it aside in favor of a purple My Little Pony shirt and matching skirt. "How about this?"

"No, Mom."

"Come _on_, Charlie."

"I want this one," she insists, pointing to the sundress.

"It's too small."

But she won't budge, folding her arms and pouting.

"Fine, we'll just stay home," I say, rolling eyes.

"I wanna go!"

"Then get dressed, Charlie. I don't have all night." I hang the fallen clothes before leaving her room, trying to switch gears and think about my own outfit.

I've just pulled on a maxi dress and denim jacket when she appears in my room, wearing the too-small sundress and a pair of backwards purple leggings. It's silly but cute, and I reward her with a smile, unable to begrudge her sense of style. "Okay, I like that."

"I like that," she echoes, pointing at my outfit.

"Yeah, I think we look nice. C'mon, let's fix your pants."

* * *

Getting Charlie's carseat into the backseat of Edward's two door Aston Martin is entertaining, to say the least. I offer to do it, but Edward insists he can manage, and spends at least five minutes struggling before I clear my throat and gently push him aside. "These are tricky. Let me do it."

He makes a face. "Are these always so ridiculous?"

"Unfortunately. Charlie, hands on the car." She obeys out of habit, doing what we always do when we're in busy parking lots.

"I can..." Tentatively, Edward holds out his hand. She grabs it, staring at a group of tattoos inches from her face.

It's a tight squeeze, but I finally snap the carseat, and Charlie, into place.

"Maybe we should have taken your car," Edward jokes, side eyeing me as I buckle my seatbelt.

"Yeah, this isn't exactly family friendly," I say lightly.

"Not exactly." He downshifts, bringing us to a stop at a light.

"So, where are we going?"

"I thought we could try Benihana downtown. Have you been?"

"Not in a really long time," I say, grinning. "That's actually perfect. I think Charlie will love it."

"Emmett suggested it," he admits, glancing at me. "When I told him she was coming."

"Did he say anything else?"

"About us going out?"

"Yeah."

"Just to have fun."

And we do. We have_ so _much fun. To my intense relief, Charlie behaves herself at the restaurant. She's totally charmed by the chef who comes to our table, and he in turn plays to her, giving her special tricks and treats.

It's not exactly the best setting for deep conversation, but that's all right. Instead, we chat about other things - first date things like hobbies and favorite foods and childhood shenanigans. I tell him about Emmett as a kid; he tells me what really went on when they were in college.

Edward has one beer before switching to water, and I limit myself to just two drinks, not wanting to be too fuzzy. By the time we leave, I'm so stuffed I'm almost uncomfortable. Wearing this dress was wise, even if I did put it on for aesthetic reasons.

Charlie passes out on the way home, which is great, but then perks right up the second we park, which sucks. I should be glad I don't have to carry her inside, but I haven't kissed Edward since the first time and I really, really want to.

"I'm going to try to put her down real quick," I say, flipping the lights on once we're inside.

"Cool. Where should I put this?" he asks, holding up the carseat.

"Right there by the door is fine."

Charlie's usual independence is dulled by exhaustion tonight. I make sure she uses the bathroom and brushes her teeth, then help her into her jammies.

"Mm not tired, Mom," she sighs as I bring the blanket up.

"I think you are." I kiss her face, wiping a smudge of chocolate I must've missed before.

"No." Her eyes flutter shut.

"Love you. Good night." I kiss her again, her eyelids and nose, until she pats my face and kisses me back.

"Love you, Mom."

Making sure her night light is on, I edge out of the room.

Edward's still standing by the door when I emerge, hands in his pockets. "She asleep?"

"Pretty much."

"Want me to head out?"

I wrap my arms around myself, maintaining what I hope is a neutral expression.

He reaches out, touching my arm. "Okay?"

Shrugging, I nod.

"Remember the other night? When you told me to stop being so polite?" he asks suddenly.

"I remember." I remember everything about that night, doesn't he realize?

"Stop being so polite, Bella."

"I'm...not."

"You are. Do you want me to stay or to go?"

"I want you to make a decision," I say, feeling nearly cornered by his directness.

"I will when you will." He says it like it he's messing around, but I think he means it.

"Oh, so this all rests on me?" I laugh.

The smile playing at his lips fades. I stare at him. He seems so far away, leaning against that wall. "Yeah, it does."

We're a little old to be playing these games. I don't get where he's coming from, so I take a deep breath and open the door. "I had fun tonight. Thanks for taking us out, Edward."

I think he's going to walk out, but he just stands in front of me, in the open doorway. "Talk to me," he says quietly, tangling his fingers in mine.

"Don't play games with me," I say to the tattoo on his neck. A lotus, maybe? "Not the way you just were."

"I wasn't playing. I'm sorry you took it like that."

"You meant it like that."

He tilts my chin up, making me look at him. "I meant it like...I'll follow your lead."

"Maybe I don't want to lead."

"You'll have to. You're not like other girls I've dated."

"Because I have a kid?"

"Because you're sweet, and things are up in the air right now and...I don't know really what I'm doing."

"Did Emmett say something to you?" I whisper, rubbing my forehead.

"He didn't have to."

A car passes on the street. I watch the taillights disappear around the corner, blurry in the light rain. "Well. I like you. I'm probably always going to want you to stay."

I stare up at him, willing him closer. I know there's a risk. I _know. _But I want it. I want him.

"I like you, too. A lot." He leans in and kisses me, deepening it just slightly before pulling back. "And I'd really like to come inside."

* * *

_**xoxo**_

_**thanks for reading.**_

_**i appreciate every review. many thanks for taking the time to do so.**_


	11. theft

**____****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**word prompt - theft**

* * *

Edward tugs on the sleeves of my jacket, pulling until I shrug out of it and toss it aside. Our eyes meet - his seem darker tonight - and I reciprocate, helping him out of his own jacket. Smiling this terribly sexy smile, he advances, drawing me into an embrace.

Breathing deeply, I run my fingertips over his arms, touching skin that's usually hidden from me.

"I love warm weather," he says, lips brushing over my ear and down my neck.

"Me too." My eyes close; I tighten my grip on his arms. "There's...so much...stuff. To do."

"So much to do." He sucks gently on my throat. "I knew you'd be soft. Your skin..." he trails off, kissing his way to my mouth. "This...is why I love summer."

"But it's spring," I say, letting him kiss me. _Finally_.

It's the most nonsensical conversation ever, but the part of my brain that's still actually processing words understands that he, like all guys, just wants to see skin. I can't blame him. Ever since seeing his ink, online and at the gym, I've been a little preoccupied with seeing it...and feeling it...up close, myself.

He threads his fingers through my hair and holds me still, kissing me so deeply it's hard to keep up. I do my best, though, exploring his perfect mouth with my tongue.

_He tastes so good. He kisses even better._

Slipping my hands just under his shirt, I slide them around and up his back, enjoying the feel of his warm, smooth skin. It's hard to believe that it's covered in ink. I think about seeing it all one day, the implications of that.

My hands are everywhere, and he shudders against me when my fingers graze his hipbones, nipping my lip in response. It drives me kind of crazy, eliciting thoughts of where else he'd bite me if I let him.

I could kiss him anytime, anywhere, but somehow kissing on the couch feels like a safe middle ground. More dangerous than kissing standing up, but not as risky as the floor. Or the bed. Yeah, definitely _no reclining_.

Pulling away, I kick off my shoes and sit down on the couch, and he follows automatically, easing me back until I'm nearly flat.

Well, okay. Maybe just a little reclining.

* * *

When Edward gets up to go, it's three in the morning. It's been a long time since I stayed up to just make out, and, by the way he grimaces as he adjusts himself, I'd guess the same is true for him.

I stand up, hiding a yawn behind my hand. "You're okay to drive, right? You're not going to fall asleep at the wheel?"

"I'm okay," he says, running his hand down my arm. He's done that a lot tonight, touch me in innocent ways that set make my insides flutter and tighten.

I give him his jacket and walk him to the door, trying to ignore the throbbing going on between my legs. The second he leaves I'm taking a shower. Not to cool off, but to take care of business. Judging by his expression, he'll be doing the same thing.

"Bye, Bella," he says, catching my hand. He yanks me close and kisses me. "Can't wait to do that again."

"Me too."

Smiling, he touches my cheek and then leaves.

* * *

Sunday afternoon is chilly, but blessedly sunny. Rose and I are relaxing on their back deck, watching the kids mess around on the trampoline.

"All you need now is a diary, where you can chronicle all the highs and lows and kissing and drama," jokes Rose. "I can't remember the last time I stayed up and only kissed."

"I thought the very same thing." I nod, drawing patterns on her patio table with my finger. "High school, probably."

"Well, exactly. Hence the need for a diary."

I roll my eyes.

"I think it was really sweet he wanted Charlie to come with you guys."

"It was. I almost backed out, but...I'm glad I didn't."

"I think this is like, a big step for him."

"What do you mean?" I murmur, watching Charlie bop Embry on the head ever time she comes down.

"Em says he's always been pretty obsessed with soccer, you know? Way back, he couldn't understand why we'd want to settle down so young."

Her words make me ache. I understand both sides of this. I wouldn't have chosen to have a child as early as I did, and ideally, I wouldn't have done it alone. But I regret nothing, as in not a damn thing. I gave Charlie life, but she gave me life, too, in ways I wouldn't have understood without her. I love who am I because of her.

I can't resent Edward for feeling the way he did. I also don't know if he still feels that way. He seems to like Charlie, and she definitely adores him. I don't know if he likes her for her, or simply because she's an extension of me, a part of my life, but I guess time will tell.

And anyway, I know better than to put expectations on people, especially ones like that. This thing with Edward is brand new. Not everything has to be this big, heavy deal.

Emmett comes outside, holding a bowl of chicken wings he's planning on grilling. Mike trails behind, holding hands with Jessica, who before today I'd only seen once at a wedding.

Mike introduces us, all red in the face like he's not sure how to proceed. He's so ridiculous, but it's adorable. Rose and I take Jessica while he goes to man it up at the grill, drinking beers and grunting like Tim the Tool Man Taylor.

Jessica is exactly the sort of girl I'd hoped Mike would find. She's outgoing and kind, bubbly even.

"Charlie is so cute," she gushes, gazing longingly at the trampoline. "I bet you're just in love with her."

"She's pretty great," I agree, taking a sip of my own beer. "She's a handful, though, too."

"I can't wait to have kids." She sighs, picking at the label on her bottle. "Some day."

I peek over at Mike, who's got a plate of burgers and is placing them carefully on the grill. He's a good guy, and I know he's been looking for quite awhile. Hopefully he and Jessica can make this work, whatever it's meant to be.

* * *

I'm in Rose's kitchen, tossing together a fruit salad, when the front door opens and closes. My heart leaps; I can't help it. Today's barbecue was last minute, so I've been hoping Edward would show up. Never mind I saw plenty of him last night, and early this morning.

A second later he enters the kitchen, holding two grocery bags.

I look over my shoulder, giving him a smile. "I wondered if you were coming today."

"Em asked me to get ice cream." Setting the bags down on the island, he drops a kiss on my cheek and stands behind me, sliding a hand into my back pocket.

The backyard is plainly visible form our vantage point, and he chuffs quietly, leaning in and pointing. "Chuck's a beast on the trampoline, huh?"

"She loves that thing. Wants one, but our yard isn't big enough." I shake my head, secretly relishing his scruffy chin against my cheek. "Not that I'd even want to deal with one."

"Emmett said you guys had one growing up."

"Yeah, and I sprained my ankle on it when I was eight."

"Oooh." He cringes in sympathy. "Been there a couple of times. Sucks."

"Tell me about it."

His body is warm behind mine. I lean slightly against him, drawn to his solidity.

"She's like a little you," he muses, his breathe tickling me a bit.

"So I've heard."

Remembering my task, I quickly peel a Clementine and section it, tossing it in with the other fruit.

Edward slides his hand from my pocket to my hip, distracting me as he steals a strawberry.

"Hey!" I go to grab him, but he grabs me first, reaching around the other side to take a grape.

"Thief," I tease, wiggling out of his grasp.

"It's not theft when it's willingly given," he says, turning me around so that we're face to face.

"It's not willingly given when you have to steal it," I shoot back, thoroughly enjoying the banter.

Smirking, he dips down and kisses me quick, pulling back before I can get into it. "What about that?"

"What about what?" I slide my hands around his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of it.

"Stolen or given?"

We could be talking about so many things right now, and he knows it. I pull him down, kissing him properly, wanting a taste before we have to behave and be social.

But it intensifies quickly. It's like all those months of pretending and holding back and slight touches and awkward glances have culminated into this lusty explosion of kissing.

We've just pulled away when Emmett walks in with a pair of tongs. He takes one look and rolls his eyes. "You should see your faces."

"Oh shut up, Emmett," I retort, reverting back to juvenile sibling behavior.

"Guilty," he sings, rinsing the tongs in the sink.

"As hell," Edward agrees, clapping him on the back. "So what's good, man?"

I escape to the deck with my fruit salad, grateful for the cool outside air on my burning cheeks.

* * *

**_love hearing your thoughts and responses. thank you for reading and for reviewing. you rock._**

**_and oh! last night i listed to the Arctic Monkey's song 'Do I Wanna Know' and thought, wow. that really fits these two, with their indecisive, tentative dance._**

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**


	12. swing

******____****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Swing

**Plot Generator—Phrase Catch: **Rise to the challenge.

* * *

"Charlie, did you take my Chapstick?" Tossing my purse aside, I walk down the hall and into her room. "Charlie?" She's not there, so I check the bathroom... "Charlie?" and then my room..."Charlie!"

Finally, a muffled response leads me to my closet. Charlie's in the corner, where she usually goes when she's up to no good.

"Charlie."

"Yes, Mom."

"What're you doing?"

Her silence tells me all I need to know. Venturing in, I bend down and drag her out by the foot. She squeals and giggles, trying to get away, but I grab her tight and haul her out. She's got my cherry Chapstick all over her mouth and what looks like orange Sharpie all over her feet.

"Ugh, what did you _do?_" I cry, holding her at arm's length as we head for the bathroom.

"Doin' my nails, Mom."

"I said I'd do it for you later," I groan, turning the shower on. "With polish. You made a mess, Charlie."

"You said, you said..." She trails off, trying to keep me from prying my mangled Chapstick from her fist. I eventually get it, tossing it into the sink before stripping her down and placing her in the bath. "Here. You can play in the shower for a minute, okay?"

"I don't wanna shower," she says, which is interesting because usually she loves showers. She also loves challenging me lately, though, too.

"Too bad." I lather her up and then set her to rinse, closing the shower curtain with a sharp tug. We're only half way through the day and already I'm over it.

Sighing, I retrieve my Chapstick, which is probably a lost cause now, and head into the kitchen. I loosely wrap the doll we bought in tissue paper and place it into a gift bag, jotting a quick birthday card to go with it.

We're heading to a birthday party, Charlie's first - not counting family get togethers. Nessa, her little friend from preschool, invited several little girls to celebrate at her house. I'm equal parts excited and dreading it. Excited because this is kind of a milestone for Charlie and her little social life, but dreading it because I've heard how boring kid parties can be.

Thankfully, Nessa's mom Angela is one of the friendly ones. We've chatted a couple of times during pick up, and I really like her.

"It's good to have Mom friends," Rose says, all the time. "People dealing with the same things you are. Just watch for the super competitive ones."

I'm wondering if I'll encounter any of those today.

My heart skips a beat when Edward's name appears on my phone. I answer, hoping this means he's back in town. He's been busy lately, helping Emmett with catering but also visiting some fancy physical therapist in downtown Seattle.

"Hello, Edward?"

"Hey, Bella. I'm back."

"How'd it go?"

"All right. He didn't tell me anything I didn't already know."

These days Edward's knee is pretty much back to normal, but he says it's still sensitive when he runs or tries to execute some of the footwork he used to do on the field. He thinks that with special physical therapy everything will return to normal - hence his trip.

"Will he be able to help you, you think?"

"Yeah. I have to go four times a week for three months, at which point he'll reevaluate."

"Cool," I say evenly.

"So, what are you up to?" he asks. "Can I swing by?"

"I'm taking Charlie to that birthday party, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. Shit. Well..."

"You want to come?" I tease, imagining the absurdity of Edward surrounding by a bunch of toddlers and their Pinterest-perfect moms.

"Sure."

"I was totally kidding, Edward."

"I don't mind...unless you'd prefer I didn't come."

"No! I mean, I'd...like that. It just might be boring. I don't know." I have no idea why the prospect of this makes me so nervous.

"I'm a couple of minutes away. Just, hold tight."

"Fine. But we're taking my car."

"Okay."

We hang up. I set the phone down and stare at it for a minute, my mind all over the place. I'm not used to this. I've been all right with doing things solo, living my life and Charlie's, work and family. There've been guys, but no one spectacular: casual dates that never led anywhere, nice guys that were dull, cute ones who just wanted to hook up... and that just isn't me.

I've had one semi-serious relationship since having Charlie, and that fizzled out on its own. There's definitely never been an Edward, and it still kind of surprises me when he wants to hang out as much as I do. Rose gets annoyed when I say things like this, like I have an inferiority complex or something, but it's not about that. It's about finding someone who wants you like you want them. Maybe I've just gotten used to duds and then he comes along and...he's...he's Edward.

And it's about timing. I mean we're both busy people, but he's a special kind of busy. Besides ongoing communication and negotiations with coaches and teammates, agents and doctors, he's decided he wants to take an active role with the catering business. He's always been a silent partner, but now he's got Mike and Em training him on the paperwork side of things, scheduling and accounts and all that.

Guess he's covering his bases in case soccer is a no-go. I mean football. He still calls it football, something Emmett bugs him about endlessly.

"Mom!" Charlie calls, interrupting my runaway thoughts.

I hurry back down the hall and get her out of the shower. We dry her off and get her dressed - she actually allows me to help pick out something - and I give her pigtails.

The doorbell rings.

"Hey, Edward's coming with us, okay?" I say, belatedly.

"Yah." She nods absently, wandering toward the kitchen. "Where's Nessa's doll?"

"I wrapped it up, ready to go," I call, opening the door. "Hi."

"Hi." Edward smiles at me. He looks tired, the way he often does after physical therapy.

"You sure you want to come?" I ask, kissing his cheek. "It's going to be very...loud. And non-relaxing."

"I'm sure I can rise to the challenge," he says dryly.

"Edward!" Charlie says, running to him and hugging his legs. "Hi! We're going to a party!"

"I know. Can I come, too?" he asks, patting her head.

"Yeah. They'll have cake."

"I love cake."

"I love cake," she echoes, looking like this is the best coincidence ever.

* * *

Angela lives about ten minutes away. We're a couple of minutes late, so the party is in full swing by the time we arrive.

"Hi Angela," I say when the door opens. Charlie jets past me and disappears without saying a word - something I should talk to her about later.

"Hi, Bella!" Angela says, giving me a hug. "So glad you guys came! Nessa's going to freak when she sees Charlie." Her eyes slide over to Edward, who's standing just behind me, and I swear her cheeks pinken. "Hi, I'm Angela."

Now _I_ blush, because I feel rude for not introducing Edward, but he just extends a hand. "Hi, Angela. Edward."

She gestures toward the kitchen. "Come on in. The kids are set up outside but there are refreshments and things in the kitchen."

The second Edward's attention is diverted she glances back at me, mouthing, "he's hot!"

Biting my lip, I just smile and nod. Because, yeah. He is.

There are mostly just moms here, and Edward gets a few glances. I'm still not unaffected by Edward's looks, or his tattoos, but I suppose I've forgotten just how initially breathtaking he is.

Angela's as sweet as always, getting us sodas and chatting as we head toward the backyard, where her husband Ben's keeping an eye on things. It's a bright, beautiful day, and as we settle into a corner of the yard, I feel myself start to relax.

* * *

"Edward, would you mind watching Charlie so I can take this?" I ask, holding my phone up. It's a call from one of my newest customers. I have a feeling they want to hire me independently, and the money would be fantastic.

"Of course." He nods, waving me off.

Wandering back inside, I answer the call.

About fifteen minutes later I hang up, excited about the upcoming job. I'm about to shoot Emmett a text, telling him, when I spy Lauren Mallory talking to Edward. She's inappropriately close, which isn't surprising: everyone knows she comes out to play when Mr. Mallory's away.

"You've gotta be kidding me," I mutter, walking slowly back outside. They've got their backs to me, but I can tell by the way Lauren's inclined toward him that she's charmed.

That's how she is, though. She's beautiful and she knows it. Everyone knows it.

He laughs at something she says, and I then see her point at the kids. I go closer, shamelessly eavesdropping.

"...Charlie," he's saying, pointing.

"Aw, she's cute. Bet she's a real Daddy's girl."

"Edward," screeches Charlie. "Look at me!" She tumbles down into the grass, executing some sort of faux-somersault. He gives her a thumbs up, right as Lauren scoots closer, looking all faux-flustered.

"Oh, I am so sorry; I thought you were her Dad," she says.

"It's fine," he laughs again. "Whatever."

He doesn't sound too affronted, but I am mortified beyond belief. It's not like our situation is rare, but I mean, who says that crap? Really? I walk over, not even trying to be stealthy anymore.

Lauren puts her hand on his arm, but he stands, brushing grass from his jeans. He takes a step back and smirks at her, like he's got her all figured out, and of course he does. He's a professional athlete. I'm sure there have been plenty of Laurens over the years.

"Charlie's not mine, but her mom is," he says, glancing at me, like he fully expects to see me here.

_Be right back; melting._

* * *

**_dedicated to the Mormon Mafia and Amish Gangstas._**

**_thanks for reading!_**

**_xoxoxo_**

**_ps i love pinterest. i can even be a pinterest mom. but we all know The Type._**


	13. physical

******__****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Physical

* * *

As usual, Charlie falls asleep on the way home only to wake up the second the car stops. The quiet conversation Edward and I have been having is interrupted by her renewed pep and vigor as she starts chatting about the party...and her own, which isn't for a few months.

My mind is still on the party, too, but for different reasons. As much as I try to listen to Charlie, all I can think about is Edward's spur of the moment declaration. I didn't know he felt quite that way, and had Lauren not pushed her perfect tits in his face, maybe I'd still be clueless.

So, uh, thanks Lauren.

We haven't talked about it, actually. Lauren was mortified, obviously, and slithered away, and then Angela announced that it was time to sing happy birthday. We had cake, watched Nessa open her presents, and eventually left, pulling a very reluctant Charlie along with us.

Edward follows me inside, plopping down on the couch while I shove Charlie into her second shower of the day. She doesn't protest this time, thankfully. Instead of letting her soak and play, I scrub her down and then dry her off.

"You hungry at all?" I ask, spraying leave-in conditioner into her hair so I can work a comb through.

"Nope."

"All that cake, huh."

"I had two pieces. And a hot dog. And a strawberry."

"So you're full."

She nods dramatically, climbing onto her step stool so she can see her reflection while I brush her hair. Edward wanders in, something he normally doesn't do.

He smiles at Charlie in the mirror, and she smiles back, all teeth. "My mom has to brush my hair."

"Moms have to do that sometimes," he says.

"You should comb your hair," she says, pointing.

I snort, eyeing him. His hair's a little messier than usual today, but of course I just find that sexy. He gives me a crooked little grin. "Must've been all that playing."

"You weren't playing!" she screeches.

"Charlie, shush," I laugh, running my fingers through her hair. It's knot free now, so I give her a little smack on the butt to let her know we're done.

She darts off, and we go back to the living room - our zone.

"You doing okay?" I ask, nodding toward Edward's knee.

"Yeah, it's okay. A little sore...my doctor really has me working it, but he seems to think I'll be back to normal. Said he wouldn't have taken me on like this if he thought the damage was irreparable."

"I'm glad." Nodding, I take a deep breath. "I know how badly you miss it."

"It's been my life for so long, you know?"

"I do."

"When it first happened...when I first got hurt...I was obsessed with getting better. Like, who am I if I'm not playing? It's defined me for so long."

I nod again, understanding. In some ways, that's what it's been like with Charlie. So much of my existence revolves around who I am in relation to her. It's been a challenge to maintain a sense of autonomy. But balance is important, something Rose and Emmett remind me of all the time.

I realize that Edward's fallen quiet. He stares at his hands, seemingly lost in thought. He's probably thinking about soccer, but I'm thinking about _us_. What he said today...that was gutsy. I mean, I always think of him having the upper hand, because of how he looks and who he is - how I feel about him. But what if he thinks I have the upper hand? What if he's at my mercy the way I'm at his?

"What...are your intentions?" I ask, before I can chicken out. "With me, I mean? How do I fit into your...football plans?"

His eyes meet mine. "How do I fit into yours?"

I smile, nodding. "That's fair, I guess."

He shrugs, settling back into the couch, arm along the back like he always does.

"You've probably realized, by this point, that I don't do casual. I can't. But I like you a lot. And Charlie likes you, which matters to me." Now I'm the one staring at my hands. "I want this."

"I want this, too."

"I know," I whisper, laughing, thinking of Lauren's stunned expression.

"I can play football anywhere, Bella. And you...can do what you do, anywhere, I think."

My eyes fly back to his. Moving? Staying? These are big plans, but...

"Right?"

I nod slowly.

"I can be flexible," he adds.

"I want to be flexible, too. It's just hard, with Charlie. I can't, you know, travel constantly with her." My cheeks warm. "If that's even what you're saying."

"It is." He links his hands behind his head, staring forward. "It is what I'm saying."

Charlie bounces into the room, wearing backwards pajamas. "Edward."

"Hey, Chuck."

"Do you like Frozen?"

"Frozen what?"

She frowns. "Frozen with Anna and Kristoff!"

"The movie," I clarify, nudging his foot with mine. "It's her favorite. Well. One of her many favorites."

"Oh." Edward chuckles. "I've never seen that."

"Mom, can we -"

"Nope. Not again." I've only seen it about eleven thousand times.

"Moooom..."

* * *

Edward carries Charlie into her room while I follow anxiously along. Seeing them together is both incongruous and strangely natural. I don't even know how I feel about it. Endeared, I guess.

Charlie made it through about half the movie. We shut it off the second she passed out; me because I love it but I am _sick of it_ and him because he can't handle musicals.

"I can't. My mom loves that shit...I'm sure she'd watch this."

"Well. Thanks for trying, at least. Charlie appreciated it, I'm sure."

"It's hard to say no to a face like that."

It's hard to say no to a face like his, too, but I just nod. "I know the feeling."

"So, she's out early tonight," he says.

"Do you want a beer? I picked up a case of that IPA you like."

"Yeah, sounds good."

Jumping up, I go to the fridge and retrieve a couple of bottles. I'm opening them when he joins me, sidling up alongside the counter. I love the way he touches me, like it's automatic, involuntary, his fingertips tickling briefly along the top of my jeans before disappearing.

"I'd like to take you out," he says after a moment, picking up his bottle.

"Okay. I'll get Rose to watch Charlie," I say, a little too eagerly I'm sure. I'm ready to move things along, and alone time with Edward sounds really good right now - whether we get physical or not.

Although I really, _really_ want to get physical.

"Dinner sound good?"

"Yeah. You decide."

"You mean lead." He takes a swig of beer, and I can see the amusement in his eyes.

I take a huge sip of my own. "You're catching on."

He puts his beer bottle down, puts mine aside, lifts me on to the counter and kisses me.

* * *

_**xoxoxo**_


	14. butter

******__****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Butter

**Dialogue Flex: **"Break it to her gently."

* * *

By six p.m. Charlie and I are en route to Uncle Emmett and Aunt Rose's house. I've been getting her excited all day…not that I really have to; she loves it over there.

We pull up and she's already wriggling like a puppy, desperate to be out of her carseat. "Wait for me!" I call, running after her as she shoots up the driveway.

Makenna answers the door with a grin. "Hey, Chuck! Want a chocolate banana?"

"Whatsa chocolate banana?"

"C'mon." She carts Charlie off with the practiced ease of The Older Cousin, remembering to throw me a glance. "Oh, hi Aunt B."

"Hey, Kenna."

They disappear, and I close the door behind me. "Rose?"

"In here!" she calls.

I find her with the girls in the kitchen, giving Charlie a paper towel to go with her chocolate banana. Yeah, that's a mess I'm glad I won't be cleaning up.

"So, you're sure you don't mind her staying the whole night?" I ask, as soon as it's just Rose and me.

She arches an eyebrow. "I offered, didn't I?"

Nodding, I set Charlie's Peppa Pig backpack on a chair. "Yeah. Okay, well, I'm going to head back."

"What time's he coming?"

"Seven-ish."

"Do you know where he's taking you?"

Charlie pops back in, grabbing my hand. "Are you staying, Mom?"

"No, baby. Remember? You're staying here tonight. Okay?"

She nods slowly, looking uncertain.

"It'll be fun," I say, kissing her cheek.

"So much fun," Rose adds.

"Okay." She grins, taking a bite of her snack. I think we're all in the clear until she tugs on my hand again and asks, "But is Edward taking you, Mom?"

"Taking me?"

"He's taking you," she repeats, glancing at Rose. Typical. I ask her to do something, and she doesn't hear me, but when it's not meant for her ears she suddenly has supersonic hearing.

Yeah - Charlie's all about having a sleepover until she discovers where I'm going. I suppose I've underestimated her infatuation with Edward.

"I like Edward, Mom."

"Me too. But -"

"I want to go, Mom."

"Not tonight. Mom needs a play date of her own."

"Mooooom," she whines.

"Stop it, Charlie." I sigh, hating that I'm actually feeling slightly guilty. I know I deserve time alone with Edward - time alone with _anyone_ - but she's my baby and Mom-guilt is...just...ugh. The struggle is real.

"But I like Bennynanas."

"We're not going to Benihana. We're going to a restaurant that is boring and quiet and no good for kids." I give her a tight squeeze, ignoring the smear of chocolate it leaves on my t-shirt. "Okay? Auntie Rose has fun stuff planned."

"Uncle Em is gonna take you on the trampoline...and we might even roast marshmallows if it doesn't rain, okay?"

"Okaaaay," Charlie says.

I kiss her one last time, hug Rose, and escape, determined to erase my daughter-the-con-artist's pitiful pout from my memory.

* * *

I'm barely dressed when the doorbell rings. To be fair, it's my own fault I'm running late; I couldn't decide between the green dress and the blue.

Edward's expression when I answer the door tells me the blue dress was the right choice. "Wow."

Blushing, I roll my eyes and pull him inside. "Hi."

We kiss softly, and he pulls back. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yep. Lemme grab my bag..."

Tonight, the Aston Martin makes sense. Sleek and sexy, it navigates smoothly through the slowly darkening streets, quiet music filtering into our space. Edward's finger drifts up and down my thigh, giving me goosebumps.

"I really, really like this."

"Thanks." Jeez, I sound breathless already. I cover his hand with mine, halting his movements.

He smiles knowingly, flipping his hand and threading our fingers together.

"I think Charlie likes you," I muse after awhile, my mind wandering with the changing scenery outside.

"Yeah? I like her, too."

"You know what I mean. _Likes you_ likes you."

He chuffs quietly. "She's cute, but a little young for me."

"Kids are smart, man. People think they don't know what's going on, but they so do. They understand vibes and situations even if they can't...put words to them. You know?"

He glances at me, nodding.

"She wanted to come tonight, but...I told her she couldn't." Shaking my head, I laugh a little, remembering. "She was kind of pissed."

"Did you break it to her gently?" he teases, side eyeing me.

"Charlie needs direct more than gentle," I say. "Anyway, it's good. She can do her thing and I'll do mine."

"Okay." He gives me the sweetest smile, making my heart skip a beat.

"I won't talk about her all night, I promise."

"Bella, you can talk about whatever you want," he says, squeezing my hand.

I nod, but I meant what I said.

* * *

Edward takes me to Campagne, a well known, but intimate, French restaurant in Pike Place Market.

"Have you been here?" Edward asks once we're seated.

"No, I haven't." I look around, impressed. "But I've heard a lot about it."

"Same here."

"Emmett recommend this, too?" I'm only partly joking; my brother has a penchant for fine dining and new foods.

"Pulled this one off all on my own," he says, slaying me with that panty dropping wink of his.

"Speaking of pulling things off," I begin, trying not to let my mind veer into the gutter with my unfortunate choice of wording, "you're the only guy I've _ever_ met who looks good winking."

Grinning, he takes a sip of water. "Yeah? Who else has been winking at you?"

Mike comes to mind, but I mentally wave him off. "I'm just saying."

Dinner is, not surprisingly, fantastic. I allow Edward bites of my steak, which cuts like butter, and he shares his duck confit, changing my opinion on duck altogether. And as amazing as all of that is, our conversation is even better. I've long known about the connection between good food and arousal, how appealing to one sort of sense seems to spill into the other, but it's never been as sharply apparent as it is tonight.

We're going deeper, and we both know it.

"Ever thought of opening up your own business?" he asks.

"Not really." I shrug. "I have a couple of things going on independently, like that new client I told you about. But...I love working with Emmett."

"He loves working with you, as well. You guys have a good thing going."

"We've worked really hard for it. Mike, too."

"I know. I couldn't believe how far things had come when I got back. Em always downplayed it when we spoke."

"Sounds like Emmett." I smile, resting my fork down.

"It was a good investment." He drinks the last of his wine. "For everyone."

By the time we're ready to go, I'm comfortably full - physically, but also emotionally. It's been a really long time since I've been able to enjoy myself this thoroughly without having to cater to anyone else. I'd be lying if I said Charlie never came to mind, but I'm at peace knowing she's safe and sound. Rose promised to call if there were issues, and there haven't been any.

It's a subtle shift. Dessert's finished, and our conversation has come to a pause. Pushing my hair back over my shoulder, I catch Edward's gaze linger on my hand, and lower, maybe on the neckline of my dress. Our eyes meet, and I just know.

Edward takes care of the cheque, and then stands, extending his hand to me. I accept, for once enjoying the frantic pace of my racing heart.

Holding my hand, he leads me out of the restaurant, past wispy redheads with wandering eyes and a rowdy table of old men whose voices have been carrying the whole evening, and our ecstatic server, who just realized he got the tip of a lifetime.

The night outside is clean and wet, dark streets glistening with rain and neon signs softened by mist. Edward opens my door for me, and before he's even joined me I already know what he's going to ask, and what I'm going to say.

"Do you want to come over?"

"Yes."

* * *

**_will edward seal the deal?_**

**_will bella pull an amish stunt?_**

_**find out next time on "the bitter, the sweet!"**_

_**for real though. **_

_**xoxoxxo**_


	15. scramble

**********__****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Scramble

**Plot Generator—Idea Completion: **The plot thickens.

* * *

Edward's apartment is a lot cleaner than I'm expecting. Well, that's not true: I suspect he planned on inviting me over, so I figured it would be neat, but it's more than that. It's spotless.

It's really nice, too, very...modern.

"So this is where you sleep," I say, leaving my purse, and shoes, near the door. They're comfy heels, and cute, but I prefer being barefoot.

"This is it," he says, taking his jacket off. He smiles when he sees my feet and follows suit, leaving his shoes beside mine.

"It's immaculate."

"I have someone who comes every couple of days." He rolls his eyes when he catches my smirk. "I'm not messy, Bella. I just don't...like...scrubbing. Or mopping."

"Who does?" I laugh. "To be fair, though, I can't imagine you doing either of those things."

Taking my hand, he leads me through the living room, down the hall and into the kitchen. It's pretty spacious for an apartment, and very open. Lots of wood, which I like, and warmly toned walls. Recessed lighting, making things feel cozy.

"Love this," I say, running my hand over his stove. Like the rest of the kitchen, it's stainless steel.

"You should come and use it."

"Maybe I will."

He smiles, brushing his hand over the small of my back. "Wine?"

"Please."

There are two bottles of wine on the counter. Pulling one forward, he opens it and sets it aside. Next, he retrieves two glasses from an overhead cabinet and fills them.

I follow him back to the living room, to the couch - natch.

"What?" he asks, answering my grin with one of his own.

"The couch. This is like, our zone."

"It is." He hands me a glass as he sits. "It's a good place to...relax."

It's an in-between place, I think. More intimate than some places but not as much as others. The wine he's chosen is good, a mellow red blend that leans closer to sweet. I like it, especially as an after dinner drink.

I don't know what I'm expecting, exactly. I mean, I know what I want. I know that I'm ready to be with Edward in _all the ways_, which is a certainty I have not felt for years. I've been with a couple of guys, but in the end, it was never worth it. There is nothing worse than the hollowness of being with someone physically when there's little connection emotionally.

This is not the case with Edward, though, and he's got me feeling so much now it's a little overwhelming. I feel like with every conversation, every barbecue at Emmet's, every phone call and hang out and date, my walls have come down, my defenses crumbled. I don't want to be good and responsible right now. I want to be who I am, and want what I am, and have this.

More so, I want to have this and have it _be_ good. Not one or the other.

Oh, Lord - he's talking. Quiet, sweet, his eyes sparkling as he says whatever he's saying and as usual I'm in la-la land. Blinking rapidly, I nod, but he just pauses and puts his glass down.

"What'd I just say, Bella?" he asks, a playful lilt to his voice.

I take a another sip of wine to buy myself time, but then he takes that away, too, and grabs my hands. We stare at each other for a second, and damn. He's delicious.

"You want to know the truth?" I ask, caressing the palm of his hand with my fingertips.

Eyes staying focused on mine, he nods slowly, hypnotizing.

"It's hard for me to focus around you because I'm so very attracted to you. I try to keep up, but sometimes my mind just goes, and it's not because what you're saying isn't important - it so is - it's because you're too much. You say things, and your voice...you...scramble my brains."

His mouth quirks into a grin, and before I can even attempt to rectify the ridiculousness I just uttered, he pulls me onto his lap and kisses me.

And oh, here the plot thickens. These are not the slow, wandering kissing we usually share, exploring each other's mouths and emotions. Not even the sexier ones, where we're grabby and breathless and practically dry humping in the kitchen. Well, we are dry humping on his couch, but this is kissing with a purpose, kissing with a destination, every moment intensifying until he stands up. I slide from his lap, glad he didn't try to carry me because maybe that works in the movies but with my luck we'd hit a wall or slip on a rug and pass out.

"I was saying," he murmurs, kissing the corners of my mouth, one after the other, "that I never thought it would be you. I'd hear things from Emmett over the years, but I had no idea."

"No idea what?" I breathe, fighting to comprehend what he's communicating through the lust fog threatening to take me down.

"No idea what you looked like, or...sounded like. Felt like." His hands run down my back and over the swell of my ass, quickening my breath.

I bring his face to mine, kissing his mouth. "So let's...go see what I feel like."

Edward's bedroom is all blacks and greys, dark nights and thunderstorms and other sexy metaphors my desperate mind is struggling to come up with. Without further ado, he reaches down, tickling his fingers up under my dress until he finds my panties. I grab his shoulders, holding on while he takes them off.

We kiss. My body curves into his, submitting to the warmth of his hands all over me.

My dress comes next, peeled from my body and discarded. He advances, pushing me gently on to the bed. The lights are dim, but I still feel slightly on display, closing my knees until he joins me. Reaching back, he tugs his shirt off. He unbuttons his jeans but leaves his boxers briefs on - I knew he'd be in boxers briefs - sliding on to the bed and on to me, the material a welcome friction against my skin.

It's as if he was holding back some before, maybe not wanting to start something he knew we couldn't finish, because tonight he is on fire. His kisses are devouring flames, licking at every inch of me: my lips, ears, neck and belly. My eyes close when the pleasure is too intense only to open again because I want so badly to see the tattoos I've only been given glimpses of.

There are flowers, designs, and so many faces...he kisses my bellybutton, snagging the skin between his teeth...renderings as real as photographs and sketches as wispy as dreams...his spreads my legs, startling me with his insistence...A Star of David; two, if I count the one on his hand...his tongue, oh. _Oh._

My fingers are in his hair now, and his are in me, working me toward an orgasm way better than the ones I've been giving myself. I hear myself gasping his name, almost like it's too much, like it's shockingly _too much_ but I'll die if he stops now and thankfully he knows that because he so does not stop.

"I want you inside me," I plead, even as I'm coming, gasping for air, my eyes shut tight, giving me stars.

He leaves, standing up to take his underwear off. I watch him watching me, his eyes roving over me with a hunger that makes me tighten in anticipation. Taking a condom from a drawer, he gets back onto the bed, back to his rightful place between my legs because I'm sorry; now that he's been there he's not leaving. Ever.

"Yeah?" he asks, biting his lip and then leaning down and biting my nipple. It hurts a little, but in a way that coaxes pleasure and the need for more. He drags his lips to the other breast, licking and sucking until I'm wrapped around him, panting.

Edward pushes into me with a sharp thrust, and I would cry out but he's stolen my breath. Backing up a little, he establishes his rhythm, eyes meeting mine, connecting here while we connect down below, turning me inside out. I knew, from the second I laid eyes on him, before I even entertained this possibility on a conscious level, that he'd be like this: wild and dark and barely contained. He pulls the same from me, making me feel nearly feral with desire.

He stretches over me, all long, lean muscle, driving into me with force that will make sure I feel this tomorrow and maybe even longer. Maybe he feels me watching him, because he looks down, and his eyes soften and he slows down, and he rests on top of me, kissing me languidly, penetrating me so sweet. It carries me into something deeper, and I close my eyes against it, feeling and feeling and giving.

I hope he knows how much I'm giving.

Now he's moving on me just right. I tighten my grip, keeping him here, and start to crest right as he whispers that he's _gonna come_.

Please do, Edward. Please do.

* * *

_**xoxo**_


	16. artifact

**********__****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompts: **Artifact, artificial, artisan

* * *

Edward makes a mean sandwich.

Balancing a tray on my lap, I snuggle back against his pillows, which we've propped up so we can watch movies and pig out on midnight snacks. In bed. In Edward's oversized, awesome, bed.

"I'll never have generic turkey again," I moan, chewing in ecstasy.

"I'm telling you. Boar's Head, baby." He winks at me, all goofy because he's only doing it because I said specifically that I like it.

"Mm," I hum, shaking my head. It's not just the turkey, but the spiffy mustard, organic spring greens and artisan bread. And the cheese. I can't even with the cheese. I suppose he's got fancy tastes from his years of living in Europe or something. "Why'm I not surprised you're a foodie?"

"A foodie?" he repeats, rubbing his infuriatingly flat stomach.

"I know you know what I mean."

"I like nice things."

I swallow, nodding. "I see that."

"Like you."

I roll my eyes, but the ingrained girly-girl in me swoons just a little at the way his eyes travel over me, his attraction obvious even though I'm in an oversized t-shirt and rolled up sweatpants. His.

"Maybe that's why I like you," Edward continues. "You're a foodie, too."

"Yeah," I agree. "Except you even buy snobby soda..."

Smirky McSmirkeson rears his pretty head. "You mean natural soda without artificial colors and garbage?"

Taking another huge bite, I wink at him this time, earning a chuckle.

He moves my tray, ignoring my protests, and pulls me onto his lap.

"Mm still chewing," I mumble, covering my mouth but secretly thrilled to be close. Although, I hope I don't look gross. I swear this Edward makes me regress to seventh grade, all dumbstruck and paranoid about my appearance.

I must not be that hideous, though, because despite the sweatpants we're wearing, his hard on is apparent. I wiggle closer, making him suck in a sharp breath and still my hips with his hands.

He hands me his glass of snobby soda from the table beside the bed, and I finish it off, hoping there's no food around my mouth.

"Thanks." Giving him back his glass, I lean to kiss him.

His hands move beneath my t-shirt, sliding up over my sides, tickling me. Cringing back, I grab his hands, but he continues, touching me all over, cupping my breasts with the grin of a boy touching a pair of boobs.

"I love your body," he says.

"Coincidentally, I love yours." I mean, come on now.

He rests back against the pillows and lifts my shirt, peeking underneath, but I yank it back down. Unlike some people, my stomach actually looks like I just ate a sandwich. But he just stares at me and takes the shirt off altogether, leaving me topless in his lap. "Let me see."

"Didn't you see...earlier?" I ask, half joking. Just the thought of...earlier...makes me hot everywhere and his eyes widen, following the flush.

"Wow," he says, kissing the space between my breasts. "You blush all over."

"I know." I squirm, not used to such undivided attention.

Leaving little kisses all over my breasts, he sucks a nipple into his mouth. I tangle my fingers in his hair, watching until I can't and then I close my eyes, succumbing to how it feels.

"Pretty skin," he murmurs, running his nose over my neck. "Perfect."

"Perfect's kind of subjective..."

"Yeah, it is."

I rub my cheek against that soft hair of his, sighing. "I'm not perfect."

"Why not?" He bites the skin over my collarbone.

"Ouch." I swat at his arm, but he just licks the spot and continues his oral exploration. "I'm just not. Perfect is...Natasha Kai."

He laughs so hard my nipple slips from his mouth. "What do you know about Natasha Kai? You been researching?"

"I Google," I say, poking his forehead.

"Yeah? You ever Google me?"

"Nope."

"Charlie told me all about your computer desktop, by the way."

"I'm gonna kill her."

He smiles, squeezing my hips. "Natasha's a cool girl, but she's not my type."

"With a body like that she's everyone's type."

"You're generalizing. I like soft...supple..."

"Sounds like a Pantene commercial."

"I Googled you, too, you know."

"What?" Vaguely horrified, I rack my brain, trying to think of what he might have seen. "What'd you see? My Facebook?"

"No, it -"

"Oh, no. Not that picture of me and Mike and Emmett with the aprons, the time we did the Lambert wedding and -"

"Earlier. Way earlier."

I frown, puzzled.

"You had on this...short little skirt, and a sweater...purple...and your hair was really, really long..."

"No way!" I cover my face, mortified. "That was high school - ancient history! How did you even _find_ that artifact?"

He laughs, prying my hands away.

"You're a stalker," I whine, recalling the total nerdiness of which he speaks. I was a gangly junior with a love for denim miniskirts and Uggs. "That was not a cute year for me."

"Actually it was a _very_ cute year for you," he says. "It's a good thing I didn't know you back then, because the age difference would've been a problem."

"Was that my old school's site? How'd you even find that?"

"Emmett and I were looking at some of his old sports stuff, and then I just...kept looking around." His eyes return to my breasts. "You've got great tits."

"You know, flattery gets you everywhere."

* * *

"Um...Bell, Bella, waitwaitwait," Edward tenses and then collapses back onto the bed, chest heaving.

Swallowing like a good girl - I don't really like it, but it's better than waiting until I can spit it out - I wipe my mouth and rest back on my knees.

"Shit," he says, voice cracking.

I climb over him, pulling his sweatpants back up around his hips, kissing his stomach, loving how his abs contract involuntarily. I kiss every picture I see, and then I kiss the little nipple ring I somehow missed last night. I kiss and kiss until he shoves me off and rolls on top of me, holding my arms over my head.

"Hey," he says, beaming down at me like I just rocked his world with my bj skills.

"You gonna kiss me or wait til I brush my teeth?" I tease.

He lowers down, squashing me, kissing me - and properly, indeed. How dirty, I think, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as I kiss him back. I like dirty. The dirtier the better.

Eventually he eases off of me and yawns. "I'm so tired I could die."

"Let's go to sleep." I yawn too, peering at the digital clock by his bed. "It's so late it's early."

"You have to pick Chuck up early?"

Just hearing her name puts a sweet ache in my heart. "Nah, she'll be okay. Em always makes the kids banana pancakes on the weekends."

"Sounds good," he mumbles, already half asleep.

"He puts chocolate chips in 'em," I babble, delirious with exhaustion.

Edward fumbles for the lamp and turns it off. His arms find me in the darkness and pulls me close, wrapping his body around mine. "Night."

"Night."

Or morning, depending.

* * *

_**"Feel So Close" - Calvin Harris**_

_**xoxoxo**_


	17. empire

******____****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Empire

**Scenario: **Write about someone who is on the brink of making a difficult decision.

* * *

Charlie sprints across the yard, arms wide open, the second she sees me.

"Hey, baby," I say, kneeling in the grass to hug her.

Wrapping herself around me, she nuzzles her face in to my neck. Having time to myself felt so good, but being here, like this, with her soft hair and her Charlie smells - today it's cinnamon, play dough and fruity lotion - is the best ever. I squeeze her tightly, swallowing back the lump in my throat, sighing inwardly at my mommy-melodrama.

"Miss me?" I whisper. "I missed you."

"Yah," she whispers back. "I colored."

"You did? Can I see?"

"It's inside!" She wiggles from my arms and runs back to the tire swing, where she tussles with Embry for a turn.

Standing, I glance over at Edward, who's disappearing into the house with my brother. Emmett catches me looking, and grins, waving.

"Where's Rose?" I call, waving back.

"Right here," she says, coming up beside me with what looks like an armful of old kites. "I was in the garage, looking for this stuff."

"Cool. It's certainly windy enough."

She nods, tucking blonde wisps behind her ears. "And we should have clear weather, too. I promised Charlie when she started getting a little antsy earlier."

"You should've called me." I punch her arm lightly. "Was she okay?"

"She was great, I promise. Just one little moment this morning... she's little. Of course she missed you. But then Em gave her extra juice and I told her about Makenna's kites, so."

"Okay." I nod, looking at Charlie again. "Thanks for keeping her, Rose. I love you guys."

"No problem. How was your night?" she asks casually, leading me to the deck so we can sit.

"Really great. We went to Campagne."

"Oh, really? I've heard about that place! Was it amazing?"

"So amazing. You and Em should go."

"And...did you do anything after?"

"Just hung out at his place."

She nods, patiently untangling the strings and plastic streamers tangled around the kites.

"I stayed there."

Grinning devilishly, she snaps her head up. "I knew it. How was it. How was he?"

Blushing, I keep my eyes on her, not even daring to glance at the kitchen windows where Edward and Emmett probably are. "It was...perfect. We had a lot of fun." I lean in, dropping to a whisper. "And a lot of sex."

"Oh, Bella." She sighs, squeezing my hand briefly. "I have a good feeling about this one. He's legit."

"Yeah. Just, you know. The soccer thing. If he starts playing again. That's the only thing holding me back, really. But he seems willing to work with me, as long as I work with him. So, yeah. I think...this could be good. Really good."

Rose gazes at me, listening to me babble. "Just...this is your life, right? Go with it. You have options. You can always travel."

"I know. But, Charlie..."

"Military families move around."

"Okay, Rose." I snort, making a face. "We're not a military family."

"I'm just saying."

"Sounds like you've put a lot thought into this."

"Not really, but, Em and I were talking..."

"Do you discuss me a lot? Me and Edward?"

"Yes. Shut up. So, we were talking, and he mentioned that Edward wanted to stay in the area, but that if he got an offer elsewhere he'd want to go. And I get that, you know? If you got an offer someplace else, wouldn't you want the freedom to go?"

"An offer to what, make cookies and cakes elsewhere?"

"Yes." She's totally serious.

"I guess. Probably."

"So, it's the same. Anyway, Charlie's in preschool. She's not learning anything you couldn't teach her, Bella. Don't over think this."

I'm about to argue with her, but then I realize that she's right. I won't haul Charlie all over kingdom come, but if we get the chance to go somewhere for a time, or to visit Edward when he's away, then why not? It feels good having Rose in my corner, encouraging me to just - dammit - have my cake and eat it, too.

* * *

Our catering business receives a flurry of orders stretching from spring right into mid-summer. Emmett, Mike and I are inundated with work, so much so that Maggie becomes a permanent fixture, assisting me regularly, and Edward steps up, putting in hours daily.

In fact, I'm so busy that I opt to put Charlie in preschool full time, which really just means letting her stay until two instead of noon, and every day of the week instead of just a couple. She doesn't seem to mind, and I wonder how in the world I got so lucky. Of course, she's pretty demanding of my time when she is home, but that's assuaged by Edward's presence.

He's taken to working from the extra bedroom I use as an office. When he's not at the gym or physical therapy, he's in there, overseeing our schedules and dealing with the accounting. All of the paperwork Em, Mike and I kind of shared throughout the years falls to Edward now.

"You sure you're okay with this?" I ask him one night, after putting Charlie to bed. It's late, later than usual, and he's still working.

Shrugging, he pushes back from his laptop. "Might as well put my business degree to use."

"But there's _so much_ paperwork lately."

"Yeah," he agrees, pushing his hand through his hair. "With the amount of clients you guys have, it might be time to consider hiring an accountant - officially. I don't mind doing this, but it would be more efficient."

"Okay. I'll talk to Em."

"Already did." He smiles. "We'll start looking next week, on Tuesday. There aren't any jobs that day, so, it's clear."

It's amazing how seamlessly he's fit into our lives. It makes me wonder how we did it before he came, and I realize that we didn't; his presence has given us the freedom to grow.

* * *

On a rare day off in the middle of May, I take Charlie to the park to meet up with Angela and Nessa. We lounge on the grass for hours, watching the girls squeal and play, pausing only to eat lunch before returning to their games.

Afterward, I take my girl to her favorite spot for milkshakes. She gets chocolate, as always, and manages to finish it by the time we get home, where she chats my ear off and runs around the house like a wild, sugared up banshee.

"Want to watch Frozen?" I ask, desperate for her to calm down.

"Peppa, Mom."

"All right." We find her DVD, and I set her up on a blanket in the living room.

"Can I have toys, Mom?"

"Which toys? I kind of want you to settle down a little. It's been a long day."

"My animals." Jumping up, she runs down the hall and returns with a little bin full of plastic animals.

"That's fine, but let's have quiet time, 'kay?"

"Okay."

I adjust the volume so that Peppa's precious little voice isn't overbearingly audible from the kitchen, and then I escape into my favorite cookbook and a bottle of beer. It's hard for me to concentrate tonight, though. Edward called earlier, before Charlie's play date, letting me know about his physical therapy and then an important meeting, so I'm hoping things went smoothly.

_"Marcus DiLane. He represented me when I first got started, right out of college, and he's interested in working with me again."_

_"Is he local?"_

_"Yes and no. I told him about my preferences, so, we'll see."_

_"Fingers crossed. I'm sure it'll go well, right?"_

_"I hope so. Anyway, I'm not sure how long it'll take."_

_"Do you still want to come by afterward?"_

_"Yeah. I'll call when I'm on my way._"

I finish my beer, toss it in the recycling bin, and get to work on dinner. It's a chicken soup kind of night, with salad and fresh bread. I don't make bread often, but it's a good way to occupy my mind. I wish I wasn't so anxious.

My phone rings. Brushing flour from my hands, I answer it. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's me. I'm on my way - do you need me to pick anything up?"

"Nope; we're all set."

"Okay. I'll see you in fifteen."

We hang up, and I marvel, not for the first time, how easily we became a couple. It's only been a couple of months, and of those we've only had a handful of "sleepovers", but he's a natural part of my life now. I suppose it helps that my kid adores him, and that he's had the seal of approval from Em and Rose from before we even met. Even my father likes him, although he prefers baseball to _fútbol_.

The doorbell rings, prompting Charlie to yell my name. I hurry out, nearly tripping over the animal empire she's amassed near the front door. "Charlie, put these away. I almost fell."

"It's a parade, Mom. They're fighting."

Glancing first through the peep hole, I kick a pair of giraffes away from the door and open it.

Edward grins, dropping a kiss on my cheek and then another, slower one on my mouth. He's windblown and gorgeous, cheeks ruddy from the cool evening.

"Hey, Chuck," he calls as we pass through the living room.

"Hi, Edward. Wanna watch Peppa?"

"Maybe later, okay? I'm kind of hungry. And tired."

"You can't eat in the living room," she says gravely. "So come back later. You can be a lion."

"Deal." He ruffles her hair as he passes.

"Want a beer?" I ask as he slides on to a stool.

"I'm okay for now." He sniffs the air. "That smells really, really good. What is it?"

"Chicken soup. With dumplings. And..." I point to the counter, where my unbaked loaf sits, awaiting the oven. "There will be bread."

"Can't wait. Haven't eaten since lunch."

"So, how'd it go with your agent?" I ask, preheating the oven.

"It went well. Really well. Couple of things I have to think about, but...yeah." He smiles a bit. "We should talk about it. You and me."

I tighten up inside, nervously. "Okay. Are you...do you have to leave?"

He comes to me, taking my hands. "Not for awhile. And if I do, it won't be for long. Nothing is definite."

"Okay." I stare at his chest, biting my lip.

"Hey." He bends so that we're eye level. "I promise."

* * *

_**thank you so much for reading, guys. **__**there's a lot of stuff you could be reading, so i appreciate that you read this :)**_

_**i read and ~love~ every review. **__**sometimes you really crack me up, hehe…it's awesome.**_

_**xooxxoxoxo**_


	18. ruthless

******__****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Ruthless

**Dialogue Flex: **"Consider yourself warned."

* * *

"Marcus wants me to go to a special training next month. There are a couple of other guys they're looking at as well, and those of us who are chosen will be placed either locally or on the US team."

"A national team."

"Right."

"Okay. So...you said you knew Marcus from before - did you used to play for the US, then? Before you moved?" I ask, trying to follow.

"No, actually. I played midfielder in college, and then got picked up by the Seattle Sounders FC after graduation. After one season I was scouted by Tottenham, which was crazy and kind of random, but Marcus knew I'd been interested in the possibility of playing playing abroad. He's got all kinds of connection."

"So you went."

He nods.

"I get that," I say, stirring the soup. "If I had the chance to live abroad, I might."

"I'm so glad you just said that." He kisses my neck.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." I tease, giving him a meaningful glance. "Anyway, go on."

"Once there, I kept in touch with Marcus, but his focus has always been here in the States. He's always been there for me, even when I tore my ACL." Grimacing, he looks down, remembering. "He flew out, hung with my parents, accompanied us home. Even when he had no claim on me, no vested interest, he showed up."

"Sounds like a good man," I say.

"The best."

The timer goes off. Grabbing my oven mitts, I motion for Edward to stand aside so I can take the bread out. The fragrant, yeasty scent intensifies as I open the door, making my mouth water.

"There'll probably be a couple of local games...and then, depending on how things go, we'll travel nationally." He lifts the lid on the soup, peeking inside and inhaling. "But it wouldn't be for good."

"So how long, do you think?"

"How long what?

"From when you start playing again. How long do you think you'll be based here before the traveling starts?"

"I don't know Bella...six months? A season?"

I don't know much about seasons and such. Looks like I'll be hitting Google up again soon.

"There are a lot of 'ifs' at play here, okay?" he says with a sigh. "Can we just take it a day at a time?"

For the first time, Edward sounds the tiniest bit frustrated. This is a big deal for him, a chance to perhaps return to the game, and I'm being super clingy. And that's just not who I am. I've always been happy on my own, able and content and satisfied, if not a little lonely on occasion. I refuse to become the type of girl who lives and dies because of a guy.

I didn't do it for Tyler, or any guy since, and I won't do it now.

Only, Edward's not just any guy. And this relationship trumps all others. And he's not leaving me, he's running toward his dream. I can do this, because..._we_ can do it. Whatever it turns out to be.

I look up at him. His eyes find mine right away, piercing me with how serious he is about this.

"You're totally right." I shake my head. "I just...I overthink things. You know that. But...we can absolutely do this a day at a time. I'll be your biggest supporter, I promise." And I mean it. I want to mean, it. I'll keep on saying this until it's real for me...fake it till I make it, right? Choose my thoughts and my emotions will follow. Maybe I should take Alice's offer up and borrow those Deepak Chopra audiobooks...

Edward cocks his head, gazing down at me. "You sure?"

"Yes. I want to be there for you," I say.

"Then be there." He kisses me, letting go of my hands so that he can hold my face. "And I'll be there for you. Even if I'm not with you physically, I'll be with you. You can count on it."

"I'll hold you to that," I murmur, wrapping my arms around him.

"You should."

We kiss until Charlie walks in, talking about Peppa and animal parades and how Edward looks just like a lion.

* * *

"Salted caramel cheesecake."

"You're going to make my body fat go up," Edward says, but he's practically drooling. "I'm supposed to be in shape for this training."

"As if," I say, in my best _Clueless_ voice. "And, good. Then you can join the rest of us mere mortals."

He gives me a dirty look - the stink eye, not sexy-dirty.

"So anyway, this sounds good, right?" I ask breezily, jotting notes. Edward's birthday is in a few weeks and I want to make him a cake. Something different and special, like him.

Although, let's be real: salted caramel is about as trendy as it gets right now. Also like Edward. He's trendy.

"It sounds like heaven. Like everything else you make." He grabs my notebook and pen, tossing them aside. "We done, here?"

"Hey," I protest, grabbing at air. I've been thinking about this all day. We might even grill out back, at my place for once. "I'm in planning mode."

"I'm in sex mode," he says, getting out of bed. "Consider yourself warned."

"Oh. Well." I stretch out on the bed, pointing my toes. "Why didn't you say so before?"

Locking the door, he rips his shirt off and steps out of his jeans and underwear. I'm never going to get used to his body; he's a work of art - in more ways than one. And he's stepped up his game, too, working out and running every day. Sometimes I go with him, which means he sprints around while I alternate between jogging and walking.

Edward stalks toward me, crawling on to the bed and yanking my legs straight. He peels my panties down and then straddles my legs.

"You sure she'll stay asleep?"

"Positive. She didn't nap today. And...she was up late."

"No kidding. I thought she'd never fall asleep."

I laugh a bit at his frustration, because this has been my life for years. Kids have an uncanny ability to sniff out when you want time alone, or when you want them to go to sleep, or when you're having a private conversation.

"You mean you _didn't_ want to watch Frozen twice?"

"Not really, no." He pulls me up that I'm sitting, then takes my tank top off. "But Chuck's ruthless when she wants something."

"Preaching to the choir, here." I fall back, bringing him with me, wrapping my legs around him. He rubs himself against me, breathing hard when he feels how wet I'm getting, swallowing my sounds with his kisses.

Right when I think he's going to slip inside, he turns me over.

"Wait," he whispers, brushing my hair to the side, kissing a line down my spine. I hear the now familiar sounds of a drawer opening and closing - we have the same 'hiding place' whether it's his house or mine - and a wrapper crinkling.

Then he's on top of me, covering me in his warmth, breath tickling my ears, stubble scratching my shoulder blades. He eases off, pulls me up so that I'm on my hands and knees, and presses into me.

I exhale roughly, arching my back, pushing back against him. He rocks against me, establishing a rough, rapid pace, something we both need because it's been a busy, busy week and time together has been scarce.

Sometimes I want it slow, but other times I want it hard. I want him to let go and let me let go, to think about nothing but right now, and what it means. Building, maybe, memories...emotional sustenance for the lonely times ahead when he'll be gone. I promise myself I won't dwell.

That I'll trust, instead.

* * *

_**xoxo**_

_**thank you for reading.**_


	19. medicine

**********__****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Medicine cabinet

* * *

Originally, Edward's training day with Marcus was supposed to be after his birthday, but due to a scheduling conflict it gets moved up to the week before. I'm relieved, actually. He's been chomping at the bit to play, so this will give him his chance to shine sooner.

I'd hoped to be there for moral support, but the switch means I'm working with the guys while he heads downtown to meet Marcus. Instead of cheering, or just praying, from the sidelines, I'm working a large birthday party for a corporate bigwig with Emmett, Mike and Maggie. This is also our first time incorporating the small team we've brought on for events like this. The truth is, the business is growing rapidly - we have a great reputation that's been promoted a good deal by word of mouth. Advertising helps, too, but most of our business comes from referrals.

It's a good time for us all. I'm making the best money I've ever made, and it's doing something I enjoy - even if I am tired a lot of the time. I also want to make sure I stay busy, fulfilling my own dreams while Edward pursues his.

Ultimately, I want us to do what we do _together_, but in the meanwhile I'm taking his advice and focusing on one day at a time. It can be a little overwhelming when I give it too much thought - both his future and mine - so I try not to get lost in my head.

"I've got this, Bella," Maggie says softly, allowing me a minute to look over the diagram we put together. Meanwhile, she continues arranging the absolutely ginormous dessert table we've been amassing since nine this morning.

"Thanks, Mags." According to my notes, we need only to deal with the chocolate fountain, which will be at different corner, and then we're done for the day. I let Maggie know that I'm going to deal with that, and then I jog to the van we use for big jobs.

* * *

By one, we're done. Em invites Maggie and I to grab beers at Hilltop Ale House. Maggie begs out, saying she has a date, and I almost do too, but decide at the last minute to go. It's been awhile since the three of us have relaxed this way, and it's nice to catch up.

Afterward, I follow Emmett back to his place to pick up Charlie.

The house is quiet when we come in. Rose strolls in, magazine in hand. "Charlie's sleeping."

"Really?" I say, glancing at the time. It's not even six.

"She was running a slight fever."

"Oh...no. Where is she?"

"I put her down in the guest room. Embry's been feeling tired lately, too, so I hope it's not something going around."

"Man. I'm sorry, Rose."

"For what? Don't be ridiculous."

I nod, heading toward the guest room, trying not to feel guilty I was having beer while Rose was here with my sick kid.

Charlie stirs when I touch her, peering sleepily up at me. "Mom."

"Hey, baby." I brush her hair from her face, noting the flush in her cheeks. "How do you feel?"

"I wanna sleep." She yawns, turns over, and starts to doze.

I pick her up and carry her out anyway, knowing I'll feel better when we're both at home. Em takes her from me while I thank Rose. She hands me Charlie's bag. "I gave her some children's Motrin I had in the medicine cabinet. There was a little left so I stuck it in here."

The ride home is uneventful. Tired and hungry, I call my favorite Chinese restaurant and put in an order, figuring they'll deliver not long after I get home. I've just put down my phone when it rings again.

"Hello?"

"Hey. It's me."

"Hey, you." I smile, yawning. "How'd it go?"

"It...went great. Really great."

"So you've got good news, then."

"Yeah. Looks like I'll be playing for the Seattle Sounders again. Coach Schmid was there, and he remembered me from before. The whole day was just..." He chuckles. "It was like I'd never stopped."

"I'm so glad," I say, and I mean it. Not only will he be playing again, he's able to do it locally. Even and when their team has to travel, they'll be based here. It's a win/win scenario.

I pull into my driveway and cut the engine, listening to Edward recount the events of the day. It's mostly just sports stuff and how great his knee has been feeling. He mentions that he's going to be training a lot, and wants to know if I think Chuck will want to watch.

Glancing at her sleeping face in the rearview mirror, I nod. "Yeah. I think she'd absolutely love it."

"Good. Maybe we can, I don't know, get her into soccer. Friend of mine from back home heads up a league for little kids."

The thought of Charlie running around in a tiny jersey and cleats is too cute. "We'll definitely think about it."

"Cool. So how'd it go with you today?"

"Oh, it went great. Everything ran smoothly." Sighing, I step out of the car. "Charlie's got a fever, though, which sucks. We just got home."

"Shit, am I keeping you?"

"No, I literally just pulled up a few minutes ago. I should go, though. I have to get her in bed so she can sleep this off."

"Okay. I'm going to take a shower and take it easy tonight, myself."

Disappointed, but totally understanding, I exhale. "All right."

"Unless..."

"You can sleep here."

"We'll have an early night. Give me an hour."

* * *

For once we're going to sleep before midnight. It's unheard of.

Yawning widely, I get in bed, snuggling back against Edward. We usually separate during the night, as neither of us are big on spooning, but it feels so good to be close in the beginning.

"I'm really happy things worked out today," I say quietly, stroking Edward's arm. "Can't wait to see you play."

"I know." He kisses my neck. "Can't wait to see you in the stands."

"So sports movie-ish." I grin in the darkness, squirming when he squeezes my thigh.

"I like sports movies. Good ones."

"As opposed to bad ones?" I tease. "What's your favorite?"

"I have a couple. Jerry Maguire."

"Really?" I turn around in my excitement. "Me too!"

"What's your favorite?"

"Sports movie or just movie?"

"Either."

"I love creepy movies. Like The Village...or the Conjuring."

"Really? I never would have guessed that."

"Maybe we can go to the movies sometime. When we have a date night." I frown. "If we have one. Things are about to get crazy."

"We'll figure it out," he says, finding my mouth. We kiss a little, holding on to each other. "We'll make it work, okay?"

"Okay."

"It's...different for me, now."

"What is?"

"My life. The things I want...the things I take into consideration." His voice is quiet, but he sounds so sure. I wonder if these things have been on his mind a lot. "The way I feel about you."

I tangle our legs, not knowing what to say.

"You trust me?" he asks.

"Yes. I do."

"Do you love me, Bella?"

My heart stops. I touch his face. "Yes."

"Good, because..." he kisses me, sweetly, briefly, and stops, pulling back. I imagine that if the lights were on, we'd be gazing at one another. "I've been thinking about this all day. Thinking about playing again. Football was everything before…I didn't need anything else. But I need this; I need you." He rubs his thumb down my cheek. "I love you."

* * *

_**xoxoxo**_

_**happy easter, loves!**_


	20. doodle

**********____****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Doodle

**Plot Generator—Binding Blurb:** In 500 words or fewer, write a blurb or a short entry about** the passage of time.**

* * *

Edward's birthday "get together" starts to takes on a life of its own. Mainly because Emmett wants to help out, and my brother can't do anything small scale.

"But I wanted to do it ay my place," I argue.

"But we have a bigger yard."

"How big of a yard do we need? Who else is coming?"

"Couple of old frat brothers...I think Edward mentioned some of his teammates from back in the day are in town. They'll probably come."

"How many people, Emmett?"

"I don't know...twenty?"

"_Twenty?!" _I'd been thinking...ten. Tops.

"Maybe thirty. I don't know." He's screwing with me now, riling me up, the adult version of giving me a noogie.

I rub my eyes. "Great."

"And _any_way. We've always had parties and stuff here."

"Precisely why I wanted a change of pace."

"He's _my _friend," he says with pretend petulance, knowing it's annoying me. A mischievous grin creeps across his face, and he continues covering the notes I've been making with this giant doodle of a birthday cake - which looks, for the record, nothing like my salted caramel cheesecake.

"Well. He's my..." I flounder, caught in the age old issue of labels. "Boy...man."

Emmett laughs uproariously. "Hear that, Edward? You're her boy-man!" he yells across the yard.

I stand up, grab my notebook, and hit him with it. "Shut up. Fine. We'll have it here. You plan it. I'll just make the cake. Dickhead."

"Bella," he laughs, but I'm stalking off, more pissed than is rational but _dammit_.

Edward looks up from where he's been kicking a ball around with Embry, who's been starstruck ever since he realized how big Edward was overseas. Em says he's been watching videos on Youtube like crazy, saying he wants to try out for his school's soccer team one day. He's not really old enough, but the same leagues Edward was considering for Charlie would definitely take Embry, so that's cool.

"What's up?" He blocks a shot from an over-exuberant Embry before it goes careening into the neighbor's yard.

"Emmett's being stupid."

He smirks. "Emmett? Never."

"He's taking over your party." I shrug. "Whatever."

Catching the ball with his hands, he nods at Embry. "Give me a minute, 'kay man?"

Embry jogs off, heading toward the tiring swing.

"It's fine," I say, knowing how juvenile all of this sounds, and that I probably overreacted. Even if my brother is a dickhead. "I guess...the guest list is a bigger than I anticipated. So, it makes sense to have it here."

"I'd rather have it at your house," he says, bouncing the ball back and forth on his knees.

Ugh. He's showing off and it's turning me on.

"Oh, yeah?" I smile, loving that he's trying to placate me. "Why?"

"Because." He shrugs. "Feels like ours. Anyway, the yard's not _that_ small. I don't know who else Em invited..."

I can hear his voice, but I'm still stuck on "ours". My place. Feels like...ours? Can't say that bothers me. Wow.

The ball lands at my feet. I pick it up, looking at him blankly.

"Welcome back. You didn't miss much," he says wryly.

"My place feels like ours," I repeat, giving him a goofy little grin.

"It does, kind of." He comes closer, so close, until he's not touching me but might as well be. His skin's got a nice glow from all that running around in the sun. "That okay?"

"More than okay."

He nods, just once. "Not too fast?"

"No. No way. I know we've only been..." I gesture between us. "Hanging out for a few months, but it feels like way longer."

Our hands touch, and then tangle. I tiptoe to kiss him.

"You know Emmett's just messing with you, right?" Edward says.

"Yeah." Shading my eyes, I gaze up at him. "I know."

* * *

I find Charlie in the TV room, pouting.

"Hey, little girl. What's wrong?"

"Stupid Embry."

"What?" Taken aback, I sit down beside her. "You love Embry."

"No." She folds her skinny little arms, moving into a full on scowl.

"What happened?"

Silence.

"Charlie?"

"He wouldn't play with me. He wants to play soccer with Edward but, but, that's not fair. Edward is not for him!"

Ah. I'm beginning to see the problem. "He's not for Embry?"

"No, Mom!"

"Who's he for then?" I ask, amused.

"Edward comes to our house all the time. He's...mine."

"If you want to play with Edward, then go outside and play with him."

"No, Mom," she whines. "I don't want to play with Embry."

"I'm not talking about Embry," I say in exasperation. "Although, if he's playing with Edward, then you'll need to share. Okay?"

"I don't want to share."

I wouldn't want to share Edward either, but that's beside the point. "Come on."

I lead her back outside, where the guys are talking on the patio.

Em scoops her up, tickling her til she giggles. "Chuck Chuck, Bo-Buck! Banana fanna - "

"Emmett!" Rose yells from the yard.

Standing beside Edward, I whisper in his ear. "I think...Charlie was a little jealous you were playing soccer with Embry."

"Aw, was she?"

"I found her sulking."

He nods, stepping forward. "Hey, Chuck."

She stops her squirming and squealing and fixates on him. "Yes?"

"Wanna play with me?"

The way her face lights up...I have to wonder if that's how I look when Edward focuses on me.

"Yeah," she says, uncharacteristically shy. She slides down from Emmett's arms and walks to Edward, taking his hand, but he grabs her and positions her on his shoulders, instead.

"Come on," he says. "We've got a lot of work to do if you're going to be on a junior league."

* * *

_**thanks, so much, for reading. **_

_**xoxo**_


	21. haggard

**********__****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Haggard

**Dialogue Flex: **"I'm losing my patience with you."

* * *

I step back, wondering if stringing lights around the back yard is too girly. And then I figure, whatever. I like it, and anyway it'll add atmosphere. And light, obviously.

Alice and Rose help me put them up. We clear Charlie's outside toys, set extra tables and chairs up - one of the perks of being associated with catering - and put out the coolers.

"Hope the weather holds up," Rose says, peering up at the sky. It's clear for the time being, and the chance of rain is low, but you never know around here.

I take a bite of my granola bar, sustenance I stole from Charlie's snack drawer. "Hope so."

Inside, the kids are making a mess of Charlie's room while Emmett and Edward, and Alice's beau Jasper, start carrying food outside. They just got back from running errands, grabbing extra beer and chips and stuff. I didn't want Edward to have to do anything on his birthday but he'd just looked at me like I was being ridiculous, kissed me good and hard and somewhat wet, and said, _"I'm not the king of England, Bella."_

_"__Not, definitely not the King of England. More like...Ragnar of the Vikings."_

_"__Yeah." The laser gaze focused in on my cleavage. "There you go. In fact, I plan to plunder this later..."_

"Bella." Rose voice breaks through the fog.

"Hm?" I smile at her, wondering what I missed.

"You want the cake table here or here?" Alice asks, stealing a carrot stick.

"Oh, this is good."

They arrange it accordingly, and then we're finished. It's not that overdone - well, not for me, anyway - but it's good. Perfect. I hope. I glance back at Edward, who's shooting the breeze with Jasper. He looks at me, giving me a thumbs up, so I figure it's okay.

"You're such a good girlfriend," Alice gushes, once we're in the kitchen.

"I just..." I shake my head. "I really like doing this kind of stuff. It's fun for me, and I don't know. I want him to know I appreciate him."

"It's great." She grins, kisses my cheek, and disappears.

Catching sight of my reflection in the microwave, I cringe. Running around all day has left me looking a little haggard, but it's nothing a shower won't fix.

* * *

By eight, my modest sized yard seems to have shrunk considerably due to the amount of people in it. But it's working out. There's music, and the lights - so glad I followed my instincts on those - and the happy hum of many conversations. Plenty of food, plenty to drink, kids running around...it's good.

Edward is the star. I see him this way tonight, especially now that he's amongst "his kind." Em had expected a couple of his old teammates to show, but a whole crew of them arrived, complete with girlfriends...or groupies. I can't tell with some of them. Some of them have wandering eyes, eyes that follow Edward like he's the sun. I don't know if they're actually acquainted with him or if they just want to be. And then there are the frat bros of yesteryear - good ol' boys cutting up with Mike and Emmett, their laughter carrying over the din.

Edward's been good about introducing me, though. Everyone's friendly for the most part. The fraternity brothers keep to themselves, though they're polite about it, but his old teammates are mingling. My favorite is Garrett, a tall, built blond with an equally attractive, blonde wife named Kate. She's sweet, very easy to talk to, and seems thrilled that I exist.

"He's always been such a nice guy," she confides, sipping a glass of white wine. "I mean, you know. None of these boys were saints, but some were brought up right you could tell."

"Like Garrett?" I ask, smiling to let her know I'm just kidding.

"Well, I had to tame Garrett. But he's all good now."

Laughing, I reach for a handful of chips. "How long have you guys been together?"

"Eleven years."

I nearly choke on a Frito. "What? Wow!"

"Yeah. Practically unheard of in this world." She sighs. "I'm not going to say it was easy, but...worth it. We were high school sweethearts...broke up when he went national...got back together. Now we've been married for five years."

My heart flip flops. I watch Edward make his way toward me, slowly, stopping every so often to catch up with someone new. Our story is nothing like Kate and Garrett's. I mean, for one thing, we both came in to this relationship older, with a little more life under our belts. Some might call it baggage, but I just see it as experience.

But there are still aspects of their lifestyle that are about to be my lifestyle, things I've heard about but know nothing about on a personal level. And I'd be lying if i said those things didn't intimidate me.

"You guys seem well suited," I say finally.

Kate's pretty face relaxes, her eyes warm despite their icy blue hue. "We are. He's my best friend."

* * *

Eleven o'clock and Charlie is being a pain, refusing to go to settle down even though Makenna is sleeping over and promising to watch Frozen with her in bed.

"I'm losing my patience with you, Charlotte. Get in bed _now!_"

Making a face, she crawls into the mess of sleeping bags she's sharing with her cousin. "I don't wanna miss the party, Mom!"

"You didn't!" I explain, for the eightieth time. "We sang happy birthday! You had cake!"

"C'mon, Chuck," Makenna says, rolling her eyes. "I'm not gonna watch Frozen if you don't chill out." She glances at me, giggling. "Get it? Frozen? Chill out? Hahaha!"

Snorting in spite of myself, I nod. "Yeah, yeah. You're a real comedian. Anyway, goodnight, guys." I kiss them both, giving Charlie an extra squeeze. "You know I love you, right? But I don't like when you're bratty. You have to be good for Mommy. Okay?"

"'kay, Mom."

"'kay. Love you."

"Love you," she echoes, looking sleepier by the minute.

If it wasn't for Makenna, I'd probably be battling her all night - or at least until most of our guests were gone, but as it stands, she'll probably watch her movie until she passes out. I'm closing her bedroom door when Edward rounds the corner and comes down the hall.

"She asleep?"

"Yeah, right."

Opening the door, he peeks in. "Goodnight, Chuck."

"'night, Edward."

He starts to close it again, then opens it and goes inside. I watch as he kneels down and whispers something to Charlie. She nods, her eyes on the TV screen, but a smile on her lips. She wraps her arms around him, kissing his cheek.

I back out, returning to the hallway, heart thumping, mind a mess. This is surreal to me. I mean, I know Edward likes Charlie, and I know she adores him, but I've never put my hopes into it too much. Hope can mean disappointment, and it was difficult enough getting past that to allow myself to love Edward. But Charlie and me...we're a package deal. Her own dad wasn't interested in her, so I've had this wall up, I guess, an assumption that it might take some time to find a guy that wanted us both. I've never believed in love at first sight, or fairytales, or even in fate. We have to make things happen.

This, though, is happening.

He comes back out, closing the door, and I launch myself at him, hugging him, pushing him against the wall.

"Whoa," he whispers, his eyes dark in the dim hallway light. Responding to my intensity, he kisses me deeply, filling my mouth with his taste...Edward with a touch of Irish cream or something. And also filling me with his _feel_, and I don't even know. Maybe we should kick everybody out and just get it on.

"Promise me we will make this work. Promise me we'll always talk about stuff. And that you'll be honest with me. That you'll...just...be patient with me and get mad if you need to get mad, and let me be mad if I need to be mad and just...love me. I love you."

"I promise," he says, smiling, amused but also bemused. "Hey. It's us now, right? Look at what you did tonight, Bella. This...he glances back down the hall, toward the party. "You know how long it's been since someone did something for me like this? Most girls..." He exhales harshly, letting go of me, leaning on the opposite wall like what he's about to say is unsavory. "They wanted things from me. But you...you're all heart."

"I can be selfish," I say, thinking about the ways I want him. And how badly.

"So can I. I'm selfish with you. I want you, all the time. You make me want...things."

"What things?" I ask, getting a little horny by his passionate, if not a little tipsy, declarations.

"Everything." He yanks me close, throws an arm around my shoulder, and leads me back outside.

* * *

**_thanks so much for reading. i appreciate it. truly._**

**_xoxoxox_**


	22. stripe

**************__****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompts: **Stripe, pipe, gripe

* * *

Because it's technically summer, I don't want to keep Charlie in school all week long. I feel like she should have time off, like other kids, even if preschool at this point _is_ pretty much all fun and games.

"I like school, Mom."

_You say that now_. "Good! I'm glad. But we don't have to go to school all year round."

"But Mom."

"You know Nessa isn't going back until August, right? And neither is Margot."

"Oh."

We've had various versions of this conversation about twelve times. We end up compromising: she goes back to a part time schedule, and I pull her out at whim if there's something I'd like to do with her.

Her cousins are home now, as well, driving Rose nuts when they're not at day camp. But even that only lasts for a couple of weeks; like me, Em and Rose are loathe to keep their kids in a super structured setting when they could be relaxing.

I mean, isn't that what we did as kids? Relax? I remember endless days of playing at our grandparent's place upstate - the modest (but no less fantastic) lakehouse Grandpa built after retirement. And when we were home in the neighborhood, we ruled. Well, Emmett did. I mostly just tagged along until I was old enough to be cool on my own merit, at which point I made my trouble with my friends.

Despite these nostalgic memories of childhood, and my desire to have Charlie experience some of them, I know times are different now. I'm a single mom, and Charlie's grandparents still work full time, so there are no idyll romps at lake houses. My options for Charlie's summer adventures are limited to play dates with Angela and Nessa and sleepovers at Em and Rose's.

Meanwhile, I'm working full time and Edward trains every day. Most nights he's exhausted, and I can tell he's frustrated at having to work so hard to get back on top, but it's definitely a labor of love for him. It's obvious.

"It's clear tonight. Too bad there's all this light pollution," he says one night, when we're on his balcony. It's the first time we've used his deck chairs. In fact, it's been awhile since we opted for his place at all, mainly because I'm still kind of weird about having Charlie stay here with us.

I just want to take it slowly when it comes to stuff like that.

"Yeah, it is. There are places we can go to see stars, though."

"Out of the city and into the country..."

I smile, taking a sip of my Red Stripe, one of the yummier leftover brews from Edward's party.

"I used to be so obsessed with playing in the World Cup..."

Expecting him to continue, I stay silent. He doesn't say anything, though, and when I look at him he's just gazing at the sky. "You aren't anymore?"

"Yeah. It'll always be a dream, I guess. It's just not as important to me now." He sits up, peering at the view, the far off twinkle of lights. "Don't get me wrong; I'm still all about winning. I just...won't sell my soul for it."

"I get that," I say, after awhile, chewing over his words. "It's good to be balanced, but it's not this crazy pipe dream you've been hanging on to, you know? You've been close before...it could still happen."

"Anything could happen at this point. Depends on my team...who we have playing and how well we play together. If I suck, if I can't get back to where I used to be, they could trade me or just drop me. And if they suck...I'll have to look elsewhere." He runs his hands through his hair, sighing. "I can't think about all that right now though. I'm just going to play. It's harder starting mid-season, but... it's all good."

"For sure. When do we get to come to a game?"

Finishing off his beer, he settles back, hands clasped over his belly. "Two weeks from today,"

"Wow! That's soon!"

"Mid season," he reminds me.

Excitement sparks through me. "You'll get us tickets?"

He makes a face, side eyeing me. "Did you really just ask me that?"

I reach for his hand, squeezing it playfully. "Just making sure."

"I want you at every game. Every one."

"I'll do my best."

Because he'll travel; I know that. As much as we both want it, it won't be possible for me attend _every_ game, so we'll be apart sometimes.

I'm not as nervous as I was before about it, knowing how he feels, but I do know I'll miss him.

* * *

Charlie is _so_ pumped to be attending a real soccer game it borders on psychotic. "We're doing the game! We're seein' Edward!" she keeps saying, clapping her hands and kicking her feet.

She's not the only one; Makenna's behind us gushing nonstop to her best friend Tia, who's with us for the day. They weren't too into it before, but apparently now it's a big deal since Makenna's got a famous "uncle".

I'm relieved it isn't just Charlie and me going to the game. It's close by - Century Link Field, near downtown Seattle - but the magnitude of it all is a still overwhelming. And Edward's next game will be in LA. He wants me to go, but I haven't decided yet.

I really want to, though.

"Ow, Charlie," I gripe, rubbing my arm where she keeps jabbing me.

"Look, Mom!" she stage-whispers, pointing to the stadium looming beyond the window. "Loooookkkkk!"

"I'm looking," I laugh, leaning in to see. Dressed in Sounders green and blue, we're packed into Emmett's Tahoe - as close to a minivan as he'll get - figuring it would be more fun to travel together. Easier, too.

We're early, but there's a crowd due to tailgating in the North Lot so Em navigates elsewhere to park. "Haven't been down here in a minute," he mutters, finally finding a spot. We pour out, grab our stuff, and head to the Will Call windows, where Edward's left our tickets.

I can't deny the anticipation bubbling up inside of me. This is the first time I will see him play live - not on TV, not online. Live. It feels like the beginning of an era. I'll always remember this game.

The crowd gets thicker the closer we get. Em reaches for Charlie and I give her over gladly, unable to suppress my nervousness at all of these people around her. He puts her on his shoulders, which she loves and always begs for anyway. It puts an ache in my chest, making me think of her and Edward that way.

She should have someone to do that for her, always.

Tickets in hand, we enter the stadium. Behind me, Rose is reminding Makenna and Tia to stick close, pay attention, stay away from perverts, etc while up ahead, Em starts singing fight songs - football, but whatever - getting Charlie and Embry even more riled up than they already are.

"You realize we have pitch side seating?" Emmett practically squeals. He glances back at me, moving awkwardly with Charlie clinging to his neck. "Your boy-man really came through, Bellaaaaah."

"And this is before he he starts drinking," Rose mutters. I forget, sometimes, that she knew him in college.

"Oh joy," I say, but I don't mind Em's excitement. I'm feeling it too - I haven't been here since I was a kid - twelve, maybe - for a Seahawks game with my Dad. It was a load of fun then, so I can only imagine how amazing today will be...especially with premium seating.

The second we get settled Charlie announces that she needs to pee. Embry does too, so Rose and I take them while Em keeps the girls and orders food. Back at our tables, we find Em posing for selfies with Makenna and Tia and mingling with some of the friendlier patrons. They mention the pre-match activities available nearby so we check them out, letting the kids get their faces painted and play on the bounce houses.

Twenty minutes before the first kick, we hurry back inside - Charlie has to use the bathroom again - and find Em, who's holding down the fort.

"Do you want a beer?" Rose asks as we sit.

"Yeah. You having one?"

"One or two. I'll probably be driving later, so. You know."

"All right; yeah."

And then the announcers ask everyone to stand for the National Anthem.

The game's about to start.

* * *

_**yes; charlie's real name is charlotte. no one calls her that, though, except for bella when she's Really Mad. emmett is/was the only one to call her chuck, b/c it's a nickname for the name charlie in general, but now edward uses it as do em's kids. that's about it. pretty simple really. i always had lots of nicknames growing up and i still do. what about you guys? nicknames? bueller?**_

_**thanks for reading ;)**_

_**xoxoxoxo**_


	23. trespassing

**********____****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Audio-Visual Challenge—Musical Mastery: **"Trespassing" by Adam Lambert

* * *

As the team captains and referee meet for the coin toss, I try in vain to remember the rules, as per Edward's (overly technical) and Emmett's (vague, half-assed) explanations. Then I decide I just don't care, because I'll drive myself nuts trying to keep it all straight.

Today's opposing team, the Portland Timbers, is a huge rival of the Sounders; even I know that. As a result, today's crowd is supposed to be record-breaking, and by the looks of it, it's true. The stadium is packed, making me even more glad we're down here. Still, the chants and cheers make it hard not to get sucked in...there's an energy running throughout this place that only vast crowds of people can generate.

At first, I can't see Edward. I didn't ask him what the number on his jersey was, and Emmett doesn't know, either. And it's all so fast paced; these guys run faster than I can concentrate.

One thing is certain, though: sitting in these seats is _exhilarating_. Even Makenna and Tia are screaming alongside, jumping around and pointing and taking so many pictures with their phones they'll probably run out of space on the damn things.

Conversely, Charlie's quieted down and is watching the field with fierce concentration, her deep, blue eyes the size of saucers.

In fact, she's the first one to spot Edward.

"Mom!" Erupting from her seat like a bottle rocket, she grabs my arm. "Edward! Edward!" She's actually calling him now.

"Shh," I laugh, pulling her on to my lap, trying to follow her pointer finger. Everybody looks the same...but then...I see the tattoos. And while he's not the only player with ink, he's the only one with arms like _that_.

My heart swells to ridiculous proportions.

He'd told me it was a good sign that they were having him play right away, that the hours he'd been putting in, as well as his reputation from before, had served him well. I think he's more worried about all that than he needs to be, but Edward is surprisingly modest.

Disappearing and reappearing from the cluster of players racing up and down the field, Edward looks like he's keeping up just fine.

* * *

The older couple sitting to our left, Eleazar and Carmen, self professed _fútbol _lovers from Spain, have been coaching us through the plays. I found them a little stuffy at first, but the more we talk with them I realize they're really just super classy. Regal. By halftime, which is only fifteen minutes long, I've figured out that Edward plays wing midfielder - thanks to Eleazar. He's impressed that we're dating, saying he remembers Edward from his European games.

It's hard not to wince when the players fall. I keep thinking about Edward's knee, and what it must have felt like in the moments surrounding his injury. He falls once, colliding with another player, and I swear my heart stops.

"Relax, Bella," Emmett says quietly, resting his arm on my shoulders. "He'll be okay."

"I know," I say, nodding.

Because he will be, no matter what happens out there today.

He's looked our way a couple times, but I can never tell if he sees us or not. I don't bother trying to get his attention. It's so crazy out there on that field, and the stadium so loud, that it would be futile.

At the end of the first half, the Sounders were down by one, but by the time the game finishes, they defeat the Timbers by two. The noise. Holy crap. Deafening roar is an understatement. It is _so loud _I can scarcely hear myself think. Even Charlie's standing on top of her chair, jumping and cheering, waving a blue and green banner she got from God knows where.

"We might want to wait a minute," Rose says, eyeing the slowly-emptying seats. "There are thousands upon thousands of people all leaving at the same time. Half of them are probably drunk."

"I'm fine with waiting," I say.

"I'm sure you are," she says, smirking. "Did you guys have a plan for afterwards? Do you...I don't know...go back to wherever they come out?"

"No. We didn't plan it out. I'll probably just talk to him at home." I do wish we'd planned something, though.

Emmett disappears for awhile, only to come back with Ben n' Jerry's for everyone - as if we hadn't just snacked for the past two hours. You will never, ever find me arguing with ice cream though. Especially not Ben n' Jerry's.

I'm nearly finished with it when I feel my purse vibrating. Pulling my phone out, I answer before even checking to see who it is, not wanting to miss the call.

"Hello?"

"Bella?"

"Hey!" I gasp. "How are - congratulations! That was amazing!"

He laughs a little. "So you guys made it, then?"

"Are you nuts? Of course! I told you we would..."

"And you're still here?"

"Yeah, just waiting for the crowd to clear a little bit so we're not stuck in traffic."

"Smart move - um, hold on." He says something to someone else, laughing and saying goodbye, and then returns to me. "Yeah. Anyway, I'd like to see you."

"Me too."

"Can you come around?"

"I don't know where to go."

"You're still hanging out pitch side?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Give the phone to Em for a second."

* * *

I stand nervously outside the door, hoping every time it opens it's him. A couple of other players come out first, eyeing us, and then Edward emerges. He looks tired but very, very happy.

So in his element. It's starling how much so.

Charlie runs over to him first, giving his legs a hug, but he bends and picks her up.

"You enjoy the game, Chuck?"

"I enjoyed it."

"Good." His eyes twinkle when they find me, and he leans over her to kiss me. "Glad you're here."

"Wouldn't miss it." I want to tell him this will be the first of many.

* * *

"My parents came today," Edward says, yawning.

"Really? Where were they sitting?"

"They like the regular seats, believe it or not. I've sprung for pitch side a couple of times, but..."

I clear his plate and carry it to the kitchen. "Did they ever come when you were playing in England?"

He follows me in, opening the dishwasher so that I can load it. "Sometimes. They usually made my most of my home games." He yawns again. "Well, home in the sense that it was where I was from, not where I lived at the time. Now it really is home again."

"Do I get to meet them soon?"

"Yes. They've been asking about you, actually."

"Really?" I tie my hair back into a ponytail. "That's cool."

"My mom especially. She's wanted me to...settle down...forever." His eyes flicker to me, and then away. It's a weighty topic, and while we've definitely alluded to it, "settling down" has a very final note to it. "You know how mothers are."

"Yes, I do." My own mother, Renee, lives in a different state but I still have to field rather intrusive questions about my love life on the regular.

I turn the dishwasher on and light off, leading Edward out of the kitchen. It isn't that late, but we're all exhausted - Charlie fell asleep on the way home and for once actually stayed that way.

"I'm going to take a shower," Edward says, catching my arm. "You should come."

I've been wondering when it was going to come to this. He's tired, but he's been extra flirty tonight, touching me and grabbing me like we're in horny teenagers.

Not that I'm at all complaining.

The second we shut the bathroom door he kisses me, pushing me up against the bathroom door, lifting my arms up so he can take my shirt off. I unbuckle his belt as he kisses my neck, trying to concentrate, but eventually I'm just too tired and anxious. I yank his pants about half way down and then deal with my own.

He turns the shower on, filling the bathroom with steam. We finished getting undressed and meet inside, sort of falling into each other with kisses and touches.

"Been thinking about this all day," he says, running those rough hands all over me.

Turning me to face the wall, he spreads my legs and reaches between, touching me until I'm desperate and reaching back for him and then he's inside. Wrapping his hands around my hips, he squeezes, holding me still as he rocks into me.

"Glad I found you," he whispers.

I almost don't hear him, but I do.

It makes me want to cry. "Me too."

* * *

sorry so late. super busy day, & then we got the prompt late in the day, and then…it was kind of a wonky prompt for me to work with. ah well.

much love.

xoxoxoxox


	24. inspection

**************____****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Inspection

**Plot Generator—Phrase Catch: **Take the easy way out.

* * *

"Well, do you want to go or not?" Em asks, rifling through paperwork.

We're in his home office, sitting at opposite sides of his desk like he's my boss. Which he is.

"Yeah. I mean. Yeah. I think so."

"You think so?" His eyes flicker briefly to me. "Have you always been this flaky?"

Rolling my eyes, I settle back. I can see their backyard from here, a side view of it. Charlie's laying back on the grass, pointing up - at the clouds probably. The sun is starting to set, casting everything in a deep, rosy gold.

"Rose and I can watch Charlie if you'd like to go alone. It's a weekend anyway. No big deal."

"Why are so insistent I go?"

"I'm just giving you options." He shrugs, putting the stack of papers into a desk drawer. "Also, I think you should shit or get off the pot. Not that your relationship is any of my business."

"No, it's not," I agree, but his words hit home.

Edward is committed to me and I to him. We're both focused on our careers, but we've promised to give each other just as much focus if, and when, we can. There's just...this little part of me that's still afraid - of rejection, failure, disappointment, heartbreak. Whether it's intentional or not.

How do two people combine their lives without losing themselves? And is losing myself as bad as I think it is? I look at Em and Rose and they just...have it.

"How do you guys do it?" I ask. "You and Rose?"

"What do you mean?" Em frowns, seeming genuinely puzzled. "Like how do we stay happy or whatever?"

"Yeah. How do you go in your own directions but still manage to be...going the same way?"

Exhaling loudly, he clasps his hands behind his head. "That's the million dollar question, Bella. But for real?" He looks at me, really looks. "It's loads talking it out. And compromise. And in-ter-dependence." He sounds this last part out as if I'm four.

Nodding slowly, I mull over his words. As gregarious and fun loving as my brother can be, he's also incredibly insightful and wise. And he has to be; Rose would never have married a moron.

"So basically it's a juggling act between independence and dependence. Compromise."

"Right. But right now the bottom line is, what do you really want? Not what do you think you want, or what everybody else wants for you, but you? What do you want?"

"I would like to go to L.A. I'm just nervous."

"About?"

"About going to his game alone. Being on my own. Leaving Charlie. I don't want her to ever think- to ever _feel_ - someone else comes before her."

"Chuck's fine. Everyone's in love with that kid. And..as for you..." Sighing, he leans forward. "It's okay to have people in your life other than Chuck. If Edward's a good guy...if he's _the_ guy...then, it's okay. Has to be. You can't be Saint Bella for the rest of your life, sacrificing shit like you're some kind of a martyr. Come on."

"Martyrs sacrifice _themselves_, Emmett."

"Exactly."

I notice he doesn't even bother addressing the 'going alone' part, and I figure that's intentional.

Because I'm a big girl. I can do this.

* * *

He downplays it, but Edward is ecstatic I'm going to L.A.

"I thought you'd leave me hanging for sure," he says, hugging me from behind as I make myself a PB&J. It's been a long day, full of errand running.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I tease, not wanting to admit to how close I was to doing that very thing.

"I know you," he whispers, kissing my ear before backing off completely.

I cut the sandwich in two, offering him half. "You do?"

"Yeah. I think do." He accepts, taking a bite. "Enough to guess your moves."

"Mm." I take a bite, too. "Well maybe I'll surprise you one day."

His eyes crinkle, and he nods. "I hope you do."

These nonsense conversations usually lead to the bedroom, which is part of the reason I love engaging in them. It's just...sillness and cuteness, just him and me. Flirting. His eyes sweeping over the hemline of my shorter than usual sundress, and my hands itch to touch the skin beneath his shirt.

I hope we always feel this way.

And then I realize that thinking that way at all tells me more than I thought I knew: I'm in this for the long haul. I really, really am.

And that's it.

* * *

"You sure I'll pass inspection?" I ask, smiling big to hide my nerves.

Edward squeezes my knee, most likely seeing through my act. "Yeah, Bella. My Mom loves everyone; she's an easy sell. And my Dad...he'll love you, too. I promise."

"How do you promise?"

"Because I know them. I know the type of stuff they care about, and it lines up with the type of stuff you care about. You're a good match."

"For them or for you?"

He chuffs quietly. "Both."

"Good." Smoothing my dress, I take a deep breath and look out the window, enjoying the play of sunlight as it dapples through the trees. Edward grew up in an affluent part of Seattle, but now his parents own a ton of land in the country.

We've been driving up their driveway for like, five minutes. That should say something. It's beautiful out here, though. Open, endless. Easy to breathe.

I peek at Edward, admiring how he looks. Dressier than usual, in dark grey Armani (I peeked) slacks and a white dress shirt rolled at the sleeves, showing off his forearms as well as his _other_ sleeves. No tie or anything, just...classy.

Just...sexy.

When he looks at me, his eyes soften. "You okay?"

"I'm great." I am. Just nervous.

The road ahead curves and then, right ahead, sits the Cullen's home.

We park beside a black Mercedes and a white BMW. Considering the utterly plebeian vehicle I drive, I find this amusingly predictable. Still, the grounds are gorgeous, not over landscaped at all - wild roses and towering trees, a little bird bath to my right.

And no maid. Edward's mother herself answers the door, grinning when she sees her son. "Hey, handsome." She hugs him tight, kissing his face the way she probably did when he was a toddler, and then turns to me. "Bella."

"Yes. Hi, Mrs. Cullen. It's nice to meet you."

"Thank you! It's nice to meet you, too. And Esme is fine. I prefer that." We hug awkwardly, but she's so warm and pretty and kind it's okay. "I'm glad he finally brought you up," she says, holding Edward's hand but looking back at me as we walk further into the house. "It's really long overdue."

"We're busy, Mom," Edward says, his exasperation mellowed by obvious affection.

"We're all busy, Edward. You make time, though." She winks at me, and suddenly I see where he gets it. "Don't you?"

_You make time._

"Yes, we have to." Nodding, I hurry to keep up.

Carlisle Cullen's an older, blond, and tattoo-free version of his son. So, hot, basically. I mean, hot in a distinguished way; I'm not like, having inappropriate thoughts or anything. But he and Esme? Wow. What a couple. They're so very attractive; it makes total sense why Edward is as fine as he is. I have to wonder what they think of his tattoos. They seem easy going, but you never know.

Regardless, the closeness Edward shares with them is apparent. They might not hang out all the time, but it's obvious they keep in touch very regularly. Esme mentions an email, and Carlisle says something about Facebook.

I freeze, eyes sliding over to Edward.

He bites his lip, laughing. "Yeah. He's been monitoring things."

"What?" Carlisle says, throwing his hands up. "I like keeping up. You'll see. When you get older. You won't feel older, you know."

"It's true," Esme says, leaning to refill my wine glass. "Although he's way more into social media than I am. I find all of that exhausting."

"You still ask me for all of the details, though," Carlisle says.

"No, I don't!" But she's laughing now, too.

"You do." Carlisle looks at me. "So, Bella. Tell me."

Edward stiffens and grabs my hand all at once. "Dad."

His father waves him off. "No, I'm curious. Tell me, Bella. Where do you see this going with Edward?"

I'm speechless. We've all had a good bit of wine with dinner, and these two are particularly open - refreshingly transparent, even - but this is unexpected.

"I...I don't know." I glance at Edward, who shakes his head at me.

"He's nosy, Bella. Ignore him."

"No taking the easy way out," chortles Carlisle. "Come on. We've been hearing about you for months now."

Esme lowers her eyes, but she's still smiling, too. It's funny; as confident as Edward is, his parents are really jovial. They remind me of...Emmett. Smiling inwardly at the though, I finally look Carlisle in the eye.

But Edward speaks first.

"Bella's the first girl I've trusted in a long, long time. We have a really good thing, and...I love her."

He's told me he loves me, but somehow, hearing that he trusts me does something to me. He's so giving, so all in. I reach for his hand, holding it between both of mine.

"I'll go wherever he takes me."

* * *

_**Hypolight - Mt Wolf**_

* * *

_**xoxo**_

_**thank you for reading. loved hearing about your nicknames, so much. love you guys.**_


	25. jet set

**********__****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**for some reason, we didn't get our prompt today. at least, not yet... so i just wrote this anyway.**

* * *

Charlie and I sit across from one another, on the carpet in her room, criss-cross-applesauce, having a breakfast picnic. It was her idea. We do this from time to time, where I let her pick where we will have our picnic and what we will eat- today it's a late breakfast of jam on toast, hot cocoa with whipped cream, and turkey cold cuts. Rolos for dessert.

She wanted the Frozen soundtrack, too, which I vetoed in favor of John Coltrane. I mean, a girl's got limits.

Today seemed like a good day for Charlie's picnic because I want to tell her about my weekend trip to Los Angeles. Generally, even though I try to be firm with Charlie, she's a bit spoiled because she's never had to share me with anybody. Lucky for me she loves Edward, so, I'm hoping this isn't going to be too much for her.

And if it is, well, she's just going to have to adjust. I'm sorry.

"Blackberry or strawberry?" she asks, mimicking me, plastic butter knife poised above two jam jars.

"Strawberry, please. But I can do it, baby."

"I can do it," she argues, dipping the knife carefully inside. I watch her for awhile, vaguely reminded of Edward's stubbornness with the carseat. Right when I'm about to just do it myself, she manages to smear a blob of jam across a triangle of bread. Puffed with pride, she hands it to me.

"Thanks, Charlie."

"Okay Mom."

"You're welcome," I prompt.

"You're welcome."

We smile at each other. Sometimes she looks like Tyler...certain expressions. I don't mind. He was - is - a handsome guy, and he gave me the most precious gift I ever could have asked for. It's hard to imagine having more children; I can't possibly love another kid the way I love this one.

I watch her work on a piece of toast, painstakingly spreading jam to every corner before cramming it in her mouth.

"Char-_lie_," I say. "Smaller bites, babe. Come on."

"Sorry Mom," she mumbles, crumbs flying.

"So, listen. I'm going to go with Edward on a little trip soon."

"A little trip?"

"Yup."

"Where you going?"

"Los Angeles. It's another city, kind of like this one. I'm going to watch Edward play another game."

"I like games," she replies automatically, just as I knew she would.

"I know, baby, but you're going to stay with Aunt Rose and Uncle Emmett again, okay?"

She draws a finger through the whipped cream on her hot chocolate, quickly putting it in her mouth. "But."

I wait, but nothing else comes. "But what?"

"But. I love Edward."

"I love Edward, too."

She smiles, disturbingly sly. "Is he your boyfriend?"

"What?"

"Makenna said."

Looks like I might have to have a little chat with my niece about discretion and what is appropriate for an almost-four year old.

"Well. Yes. Edward is my boyfriend."

"He's my boyfriend, too," she confides.

"Oh, really? That's nice." I bite my lip, trying not to laugh.

"Yes. I'm going to marry Edward."

"But what about Harry?"

"No, Mom." She looks grimly at her toast. "I don't like Harry anymore."

"Okay." She might be as boy crazy as I was...I just didn't think it would start so young_. _"Well, anyway, I guess we can share Edward."

"No, Mom."

"Yes."

She stares at me, licking jam off of her lips.

"Charlie, Edward is going to be in our lives, okay? He wants to hang out with us a lot."

"Okay."

"And sometimes we're going to go on trips together. Sometimes you'll come, but other times you'll stay."

She nods, looking at the plastic Peppa mug Edward got her to match mine.

"So this weekend I'm going to go away with him and that's it," I repeat, knowing how selective she is with what she wants to hear. "You'll stay with your cousins."

"Can we watch Peppa?"

"What, now?"

"Yah!" She jumps up, almost knocking over what's left of her cocoa.

"Can we finish eating first?"

"But."

"Come sit. You want to sit on my lap?"

"No Mom."

But she plops down on me anyway.

* * *

The Sounders don't always use charter flights, but they've arranged to for their trip to L.A. They'll be in Portland after that, and then back in Seattle. That's where things get a little rough: eight days on the road, doing games around the northwest, followed by a flight east to play in Boston and New York, respectively. And then Texas to play FC Dallas...and then back to Seattle. The next couple of months are going to be trying for me, but for Edward they're going to be absolutely nuts.

He says he's used to it, though. He thrives.

We had our first almost-argument when he assumed that my hotels and flights would automatically be paid for - by him.

"_I'm...not sure I'm comfortable with that," I said, staring at him from across the table. I hadn't really thought about all of the details, I supposed._

_"__What's the big deal?" He shrugged, twirling pasta around his fork. "Would you rather pay for it?"_

_"__You know I can't afford that. Not _that _many games."_

_"__Right. So what's the problem?"_

_It was a perfect example of how differently we saw money. He'd been raised in a hard working, but very privileged family, and had gone straight into professional soccer, where he continued to make money by the boat load. I, on the other hand, had never been destitute, but every dollar was hard won and accounted for. He saw money as a tool to get things done, I saw it as something that had to be handled carefully and doled out sparingly._

_Jet setting around the country to watch my boyfriend play seemed frivolous._

_"__The time will probably come when you'd rather just stay home, to be honest. It's not as glamorous as it sounds. But right now, while it's still new, just come when you can and let me deal with the cost." The waiter stopped by with our second bottle of wine. "I can pour it; thank you." _

_"__You're welcome, Sir. Is there anything else I can get for you?"_

_"__No, thanks. This is great."_

_Giving a brief nod, the waiter smiled and left._

_"__Fine," I said finally._

_"__Why do you still sound unsure?" He topped my wine off. "I'm the one inviting you, right? I should cover it."_

_He arched his eyebrow, like he was challenging me. The more time we spent together, the closer we got, the more comfortable we were being direct. No more fluff, no more sugarcoating. It had been gradual change, but a natural one and I liked that we knew one another well enough to be real. _

_"__I'm just used to taking care of myself. It's fine. I also just...never want anyone to think I'm...taking advantage."_

_"__Forget what everyone thinks. You'll have to, especially in this world. People talk shit and spread rumors no matter how nice you try to be. Besides, if anyone's taking advantage...it's me."_

_How could I argue with logic like that?_

_"__I feel like a kept woman," I teased._

_"__You'll get over it."_

I'm not allowed to fly with Edward, not even when they take regular flights. I can't stay in his hotel, either, so he's booked me a suite in the nearby Marriott.

"Probably should've gone to bed earlier," I say as we pull up to SeaTac the morning of our flights. I leave an hour earlier than him, so he's dropping me at the curb before heading off to meet his team.

"Hm." He smiles, distracted by the traffic whizzing by. "Okay. Gotta go. I'll call you when we land."

"Whenever you can is fine; don't worry about it."

"Oh, and Garrett's wife, Kate, will pick you up."

"Really?" A deep sense of relief washes over me; I didn't realize how anxious I still was.

"Yeah. She's pretty excited you're coming...shit." Rubbing his face, he sighs. "I'm sorry. I should've asked if that was okay with you."

"No, it's totally fine. I liked Kate a lot."

Smiling softly, he reaches out, curving his hand around the back if my neck. "She really liked you, too. You sure it's okay?"

Even at five a.m., he's so heartbreakingly handsome. My heart skips randomly, reminding me of how affected I am by him...still. "I'm positive. Thank you."

Pulling me closer, he kisses me soundly. "Thank _you."_

It's a good time to be at the airport; not too hectic yet. After grabbing coffee and a fruit salad, I settle in at my gate to FaceTime Charlie on Rose's phone. She giggles her way through a conversation, at one point wandering away from Rose and holding the phone hostage in what looks like a closet. Eventually Rose catches up to her, and we chat for a moment before hanging up. On the other side of the glass, the rising sun grows in brilliance, reflecting against the planes waiting on the tarmac, making them look silvery. I watch absently for awhile wondering where exactly Edward's plane takes off from, if he's anxious about this game.

He says he gets nervous before every game, that the day he doesn't he'll be nervous that he's _not _nervous because that's what helps him play as well as he does.

A text comes through - Edward sending Kate's number, with an assurance she'll meet me in arrivals at LAX.

_thanks. have a good flight. love you._

_love you too._

* * *

Kate is just as stunning as I remember. Her hair is a little longer, pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. Grinning from behind her oversized sunglasses, she gives me a hug.

"No extra bags, right?" she asks.

"Nope. Just this."

"Perfect. Let's go."

She's easy to talk to, just like the night of Edward's birthday, babbling about everything from the heat wave the city's been having to tonight's game.

"You know...this might sound dumb, but I didn't realize before now Garrett played for LA Galaxy. You're the friends Edward came to visit that one time, aren't you?"

She nods, using her key fob to unlock her car. A luxury SUV, natch. "Yeah. It'll be a little crazy watching them compete. They used to play on the same team...feels like a lifetime ago."

"It's good they're still close."

"It is. They've been through a lot together." She smiles, turning the a/c up. "Okay, well, I don't know about you, but I seriously need more coffee."

"Sounds good," I say, sending quick texts to Edward and then Rose, letting them know I landed safely.

Despite the coffee, though, by the time Kate drops me off at my hotel, I'm sleepy again. I check in to my room, kick my shoes off and drop into bed, grateful I have a few hours to relax before the game. I'll be sitting pitch side again, with Kate this time. Edward made sure I wouldn't be alone, and I can't even deal with how much that means to me.

I'm awoken by hands and kisses.

Edward is beside me, half naked already.

"What...how did you get in here?"

"It's my room, too," he laughs, pulling my zipper down.

"But I thought you had to stay with the team." I yawn, disoriented.

"I do. I can't stay here. I just...needed to have access to you."

Our eyes meet. The need in his is so naked I swear I can feel it.

I'm his. I lift my hips so he can get my jeans off.

* * *

_***Harry Styles. Charlie shares a 1D obsession with her older cousin Makenna. ;)**_

_**thanks for reading! **_

_**xoxoxxoxo**_


	26. challenge

**************____****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Challenge

**Dialogue Flex: **"Looks can be deceiving."

* * *

It's amazing how different an experience can be based on the people you're with. Attending one of Edward's games with my family was crazy, rowdy fun. A little overwhelming.

With Kate, going to a MLS game is overwhelming, too, but for different reasons. She says she goes to almost every game, even after all these years. Of course, not having kids makes that a little easier.

"I don't want kids," she says. "I love my sister's kids...and Charlie's pretty frigging adorable...but they're just not for me."

Anyway, this game against LA Galaxy couldn't be more different. And maybe I'm paranoid, but it seems there are more girls here. At least, in premium seating. Everyone in LA is so...attractive. Put together. As Kate and I grab our club seats and wait to order something to drink, I look around, grateful I dressed a little nicer than my jeans-and-jersey combo back in Seattle.

Kate always looks perfect, from her hair to her toenails. I can't help but wonder how much of it is natural for her and how much is a result of her surroundings.

The game goes well. It's really close, but LA Galaxy wins, two to one. This is a reality I'm going to have to get used to, but I'm definitely nervous about Edward's post game mood. He's been relatively easy going the time we've been together, but I've noticed a growing intensity now that he's back in the game.

Passion.

* * *

Kate and I stand, watching the field.

"Let's go," she says, nodding back toward the VIP entrance we came through.

"I kind of wanted to see Edward," I say, fiddling with the zipper on my purse.

"I know." She smiles, linking her arm through mine. We're both a little tipsy, which is why she arranged for a car service to provide our transportation today. "We'll see them. Come on."

It's so different with Kate. People move aside for us, defer, open doors, smile. Either people recognize her as Garrett Allen's wife, or they're responding to her beauty and confidence - whatever it is, we're back by the player's lounge before I know it. There are other people hanging out, mostly female. I knew this was how it would be, stereotypically, but seeing it is another thing.

Kate sends a series of texts and sighs, looking at me. "Sorry you guys didn't win."

"No, you're not," I laugh, rolling my eyes.

She cackles, cheeks pink with glee and alcohol. "I don't know...defeat sex is just as good as victory sex. He'll probably need _comforting_."

I lean against the wall. "Well. He had plenty of that this morning, so..."

Kate smacks my arm. "You're supposed to save it until afterwards!"

"Hey, he came to me!" _And, have you seen him_?! I wanted to add. Who says no to that? "What was I supposed to do?"

"And you look so innocent," she says, shaking her head. "Looks can be deceiving."

"Innocent? I have a kid, Kate."

"I know." Her eyes soften. "But you're a good girl. I know that. And...he definitely knows that."

Her words make me wonder what sorts of conversations about me Edward and Garrett - and Kate - have had. It's a warm feeling, really, because she's been so incredibly kind to me, like we could become real friends. I hope we do; having people in my life who understand this world would be invaluable.

Moments later, players start trickling out of the doors. Kate and I get our fair share of attention, wandering eyes and smirks, but then Garrett steps out and scoops his wife into a hug. I turn away, giving them a bit of privacy as they kiss, loving that they are this in love, even after all this time.

Edward appears a moment later, freshly showered, his hair a perfect mess.

"Hey," I say, going hesitantly for him.

Grabbing me by the waist, he pulls me close. "Hey."

He's quiet, tired. I wrap my arms around him, hugging him tight. "Good game."

"Not good enough." He kisses my neck and pulls away.

I don't know what to say in situations like this; maybe I should have asked Kate. But maybe he doesn't need me to say anything. I remember Emmett after football games in high school, when his team lost. Usually he'd just go party.

Like he's reading my mind, Edward brushes my ear with his lips. "Let's go out."

Garrett and Kate leave, promising they'll meet us later on. Edward brings me back to his hotel so he can change, and then brings me back to mine so I can do the same. I opt for a shower, as well, feeling sweaty and gross after being in the incessant heat.

"So, you know LA pretty well?" I ask Edward, as we grab a cab downtown.

"Not really. Kate and Gar take me out when I'm in town, which is whenever I'm in the States." He glances at me, resting his hand on my bare knee. "Which is all the time, now. If you like it, we can visit more often."

I nod, looking out at the city, washed gold in the setting sun. "It's quite glamourous."

"Parts of it."

"The people, I mean."

"Yeah. It's different. Seattle's a lot more easy going."

I squeeze his hand, glad he recognizes that. I'm not sure I could keep up in a city like this, even if it _is _exciting and new.

We meet Garrett and Kate at The Standard, a hotel downtown with a rooftop bar. A lot of Edward and Garrett's teammates are there, filling the night air with laughter and conversation. I recognize one guy from Edward's party - James, a blond, blue eyed all-American type. He's friendly, if not a little intense, his surprise at seeing me obvious.

"No shit?" He grins, eyebrows up, as he sips his cocktail. "Getting older, man. Settling down." He clinks his glass to Edward's, but I get the impression he's being slightly sardonic.

"Yeah. So, what about..." Edward steers the conversation in another direction, leaving me to look around, observing the other patrons. Garrett and Kate are about twenty feet away, absorbed in a conversation of their own. Everywhere I look, people are chatting and flirting, some more obvious than others.

I don't miss the glances Edward gets. I'm not stupid. Men like him are magnets for it, something I thought long and hard about when we first began dating. He is by far the hottest guy I have ever been with, but that's just the tip of the iceberg. His face and body may have snared me, but it's who he is inside that made me fall in love. Other people, though, other women...they don't know who he is. They see fuckable flawlessness, not kindness and generosity.

And can I blame them? Not really.

Still, it makes me want to stay close. It also freaks me out, because I can't be at his side 24/7, nor should I have to be. Like all relationships, this is going to have to be based on trust. Otherwise we have nothing.

James isn't the only one to show surprise when Edward appears to his friends and teammates attached to me, introduced as his girlfriend. Some are friendly, others almost dismissive. A couple of them give me the once over, just as lecherous as James. If Edward notices, he doesn't take it too seriously, so, neither do I.

Eventually, we end up at a table with Garrett, Kate, James, and two girls, both of who seem interested in James. I decide I don't even want to know, especially when the three of them fall into a cozy little trio in the corner, chatting and giggling amongst themselves.

"Bella," Kate breathes. She might be the cutest drunk I've ever seen. "I've really gotta pee. Do you need to go?"

"I do, actually."

"Okay. Let's go. Together."

"Okay." I smile at her antics, reminded a little of Alice back home.

"Finish your drink," she almost slurs, eyeing my nearly empty glass. "We can get another one later."

It's a chocoloate martini, my favorite. I polish it off, then follow her to the bathroom.

"Even this is nice," I mutter, glancing around at the poshness.

"I know. It's kind of ridiculous," she says, yanking down her underwear. "But I love it."

I follow suit and use the bathroom. We wash our hands and fix our hair. I lend her my lip gloss, which she's been gushing about all day - and she gives me a spritz of her perfume. It feels like high school or college, in the best way. I realize, looking at myself in the mirror, that it's been a really long time since I just...went out like this.

I'm not even twenty five, and yet sometimes it feels like I've been alive forever.

Back at our table, the vultures have descended. I watch the boys smile and field questions, give awkward hugs, and then, finally, stand up when Kate and I get back. I eye the girl closest to Edward, not missing her fantastic cleavage or her super short skirt.

"You good?" Edward asks, nodding toward me.

I smile, nodding, pushing past the brunette, who gets the hint and wanders off. The other girl leaves too; Kate doesn't even look annoyed. She's probably used to this.

Whatever. Edward's looking at me like I'm butter on bread and really, that's all I care about.

* * *

We end up back at his hotel room. I ask if this will cause problems with the team's manager; he says no.

"As long as I…send you away. After."

"After what?" I ask, giving him my best innocent face.

"After a rousing game of Uno," he snarks. "I'll call you a cab."

"What would we be doing if I was one of your groupies?"

Edward snorts, kicking his shoes off.

"No, I'm serious..."

He eyes me. "I think you think I've been with way more women than I have."

"Oh, please." I slip out of my shoes and kick them aside. "Spare me the act."

"What act?" He laughs quietly, staring from the opposite sides of the bed.

"You...men who look like you don't stay celibate," I challenge. "I might not be used to this lifestyle, but I know that much. So tell me. I want to know."

"Why?"

"Because. It's one of the few things we've kind of skirted around."

"With good reason."

"But…"

"There were a few girls...way more when I was younger," he admits, finally. "I've calmed down some."

"That's good..."

"Got a girlfriend now." He grins at me.

"Ooh. What would she think about this?" I ask, playing along.

"She wouldn't think anything. She knows I'm faithful."

My chest squeezes.

He tosses me a tiny bottle from the minibar. Some sort of frou frou, flavored vodka; right up my alley. He takes one too, and we drink them quickly.

"What do want?" he asks suddenly, tossing his empty bottle.

"I want you to...pretend."

"That you're a groupie?

Blushing, I nod.

For a small eternity, he does nothing. Except smile. And... I feel silly. But bold. And warm from drinks, and like I want to play.

He straightens up. Stares at me, eyeing me from head to toe. "Then come here," he says, motioning me closer.

I cross over to where he's standing.

"Come here," he whispers, running his nose down my cheek, my neck, sending shivers up and down my skin, "and sit on my dick."

* * *

**_bella's a little kinky. who knew?_**

* * *

**_hold on, we're going home - drake_**

**_hold on, we're gong home - _****_arctic monkeys_**

* * *

**_thanks to the reader who told me about tampa bay rowdies. you were right! i fixed it._**

**_and thanks to everyone else for so faithfully reading this and reviewing. means the world to me._**

**_xoxoxoxo_**


	27. lyric

**************____****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Lyric

**Plot Generator—Idea Completion: **Lapse of judgement

* * *

So much for "keeping in character". His words make me laugh, which makes him laugh, which makes him look so cute and unguarded that I kiss him anyway.

Kissing me back, he tosses me on to the bed and dives on, pinning me with his weight. I hold him tight, turned on by the feel of him so close despite the clothing between us. He pushes his hips against me, once, and then again, and it feels so good I start to push back. Letting go of his hair, I shove my hand between our lower halves and unbutton his jeans. And, holding his hips back some, he lets me. His kisses drift from my mouth to neck, then down to my chest where he bites softly.

I like that. I tug his hair; he bites again. We're rowdy tonight, and rough, and it's riling me up more and more.

Having handled the button and zipper, I push his pants down with my feet, just enough, to access what's beneath his underwear. I wrap my hand around him tightly, making him grunt into my cleavage before he comes up for air, all wild eyed and panting.

"Bella," he stutters.

I push my panties to the side - they're lacy and non-substantial and have been giving me a wedgie half the night - and then lock my legs around Edward, pulling him closer.

He groans, resisting. "Wait."

I kiss him.

He kisses me, stops, and drops his head. "Wait. I wouldn't do this without a condom."

"I'm not a groupie," I very nearly growl, unconcerned with my complete lack of consistency. We can role play later; I'm ready to get it on right the hell now. "I'm your girlfriend."

His eyes flash to mine, and he dips to kiss me, long and slow. "You're not just my girlfriend."

We kiss, deeply, and _damn; _I love the way he tastes. His body rocking against mine, getting closer to entering me every time...somehow it's even sexier with our clothes on.

"I want you to be my wife one day," he whispers, biting my ear as he thrusts into me. It is, by far, the best sex I have _ever_ had.

* * *

"Did you mean it?" I ask, cuddled up against him in the cab on the way back to my hotel.

"I wouldn't have said that if I didn't mean it," he says, yawning. His arm around me tightens, and he pulls me closer even though I'm practically on his lap.

Warmth and tingles bloom in my belly. I look up at him, watching the play of passing lights on his face. "How are you so sure?"

"Aren't you sure about me?" he asks evenly, but I hear a note of doubt, and I hate that I put it there.

"I am _so _sure about you." Reaching up, I bring his face down so I can kiss him again. "It just happened really fast."

"I know." He runs his hand through his hair. "We can take it slowly."

"I..." I don't know what to say. Nothing about us feels like taking it slowly, but putting that into words…I can't.

"My parents only dated for a year before getting married," he says. "My dad said he knew she was the one...right away."

"My parents were together all through high school, but then only lasted a year of marriage," I say.

He stays quiet, listening.

"Em and I bounced back and forth between my parents until my sophomore year, when my mom moved to Phoenix." Yawning a little myself, I rest my head on Edward's chest. "I'm sure Emmett told you all that, though."

"A lot of it, yeah."

"I'm glad you guys are close."

"Me too. He's a good guy."

"When he's not being a pain in my ass."

Edward chuckles. "It's what he does best."

We fall silent, lulled by the quiet ride. At my hotel, Edward pays the cabbie, asking him to wait ten minutes, and then walks me up to my room.

"Will it always be this way?" I ask, wishing we didn't have to spend the night apart.

"Every coach is different, but...yeah. This is pretty typical for away games."

"Okay." Kissing his cheek, I hug him good night. "I'm glad I came out."

"Me too. I know...it wasn't easy leaving Chuck."

I shrug, nodding. "I'll bring her next time."

"Sounds like a plan."

"And…the other stuff…we'll talk about that."

"I know we will," he says, with a knowing smile.

"I love you," I say quietly, feeling the weight of my words in light of what we've discussed tonight.

"Love you, too." One last kiss, and he releases me. "I arranged for car service tomorrow. Call me if you need anything."

"You didn't have to do that," I say, opening my door. "I could've called a cab."

"I wanted to." Hands in his pockets, he watches me. "I'll see you in a couple of days."

"Okay."

"Okay."

I don't want to say good night, and he doesn't seem to want to, either, but in a few hours we'll be boarding planes for different cities. I give him a little wave and close the door.

* * *

On the plane, I'm dozing before we even take off - a true testament to how exhausted I am. It's been awhile since I pulled an all nighter, and my inability to deal with the aftermath is laughable.

I wake up when the plane hits the runway back at SeaTac. Blinking, I rub my eyes and look blearily around. It's overcast outside, a sharp contrast to the sun-drenched palette of Los Angeles.

Rose and Charlie meet me at the curb. Before I can even open the car door, I see Charlie smiling hugely and pointing at me through the glass. I toss my bag on to the passenger seat and then open the back door so I can give her a hello-kiss and snuggle.

"Hi, baby!"

"Hi, Mom!" Wrapping her arms around my neck, she squeezes the daylights out of me before a police officer passes by, advising us to move along. I kiss Charlie's face quickly before jumping up front.

"How'd it go?" I ask Rose, giving her an awkward side-hug from my seat.

"I'd love to say non-eventful, which would've been a good thing, but..." She checks her mirrors before pulling into the flow of traffic. "Emmett had a little lapse of judgement concerning the trampoline."

"Oh no." I cover my mouth. "What happened?"

"Embry was being rude, so I told him to go to his room. He started back-chatting me, which annoyed Em - you know he can't stand that - so he came out of the bedroom to deal with it. Anyway, next thing I know, he's chasing Embry, who was kind of laughing but I think kind of freaked out too...and then they ended up outsi-"

"And Uncle Emmettttt felt off the trampoline," Charlie interjects.

I turn, putting my finger to my mouth. "Interrupting cow," I whisper, earning a blush and a giggle from her.

"Well, yeah," Rose says, sighing. "He did fall off. He chased Embry right on to it and they bounced...collided... and the impact sent Em into the grass."

"Is he ok?" I ask, cringing.

"Landed funny on his arm, so the doc put it in a sling. It's not broken, just bruised really, _really_ badly."

"I swear...only my brother."

"I know. He's pretty embarrassed, though. And Embry felt sooo bad. He's been an angel ever since."

I stifle a giggle, feeling both sympathy and amusement at the whole thing. "Man. I leave for two days..."

"He'll be fine. Mike and the team are going to pick up the slack on next week's job."

This upcoming week is going to be pretty busy, indeed. I make a mental note to ask Em if there's anything extra Maggie and I can take on to help lighten the load.

"Did you have a good weekend, Charlie?" I ask, turning in my seat.

"Yah. I helped Uncle Emmett carry his juice."

"That's good." Smiling, I blow her a kiss, which she catches, all exaggerated and goofy.

"Um, Aunt Rose."

Rose glances at her in the rearview. "What's up?"

"Can I hear _Let it Go_?"

Rose grimaces, pressing play on her iPod. "Can't wait till she _lets go_ of this Frozen obsession."

"Tell me about it," I groan, settling back to endure my one billionth rendition of the song, singing along when I don't even mean to; that's how brainwashed I am.

Charlie sings along from the backseat, too, belting out the chorus while mumbling the bits she doesn't know.

"But Mom," she says, abruptly breaking off mid-lyric.

"Yeah?"

"Mom. I missed you."

I think back over the past forty eight hours, the fun parts and the nerve wracking. I'd love to say I'd do it all over again, in a heartbeat, but really - that's not my life. This is. I'll figure out ways to balance things one day at a time, but for right now, it feels really good to be back home with Charlie.

"Me too," I say. "So much."

Charlie and I watch Edward's Portland game from home, just me and her, popcorn and a pizza. She gets bored after awhile and wanders off to play, but I watch the whole thing. I'm getting better at following now, and it doesn't hurt having sports announcers provide running commentary on every play.

Once again, the Sounders beat the Timbers. I leap off the couch, cheering like a deranged sports fan, and then plop back down to send a congratulatory text Edward will see whenever he picks up his phone.

And when his commercial flight lands at SeaTac a day later, Charlie and I are there to pick him up.

* * *

_**some of you hate author's notes. sorry. but i see the reader/writer relationship as a two way street and sometimes this is the only way to communicate.**_

_**i can understand the varied opinions concerning bella's "role-play" and her thought process during. but this was her way of addressing the situation, making light of it, and being ok. she knows what she's getting into. confident couples can fool around like this w/out there being negative implications. like reader JK5959 said, so perfectly i thought, "Ha ha. Edward not so charming with the groupies, huh. He gets right to it. Lol. I suppose that was the point he was trying to make. With them it's just sex but with her it's everything. I like that."**_

_**it's interesting how differently we all look at things, and i so appreciate hearing and discussing it all with you. well, maybe not the sanctimonious guest reviewer, but those of you who signed in and expressed yourselves politely. much love.**_

_**thank you for reading, and for sharing your thoughts.**_

_**xoxoxo**_

_**ro**_


	28. flip

**************____****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompts: **Clip, flip, blip

* * *

The night Edward comes back from Portland, the three of us order Thai and hang out in the kitchen until it's time for Charlie's bath. Edward catches up on emails while the kid and I go through our night time ritual of washing, reading and finally, bed.

It's this shift, from mom-time to me-time: I switch my iced tea out for beer and meet Edward in the living room. Our zone.

I watch him flip through the channels, knowing he's just going to end up On Demand, where he always does. We'll look at our choices, order a movie, and end up either making out half way through it or falling asleep. I love that this is predictable to me, that I _know him_ this way. There are all sorts of details and tendencies that make up a person, that make up a relationship, and the level of comfort and closeness we share is one I've never experienced with a boyfriend before.

"You're staring," he says, smiling at the menu on the screen.

_Yup, On Demand._

"I'm thinking."

"About?"

"This is nice."

He glances at me, quirking an eyebrow. "Yeah. It is."

When I don't say more, he roughs his hand through his hair and laughs. "Tell me, quick, before you disappear into Be-la-la land."

"Did you come up with that yourself?"

"I did, actually." He tosses the remote aside and turns more toward me.

"Just thinking about how well I know you now." I nod toward the TV. "I knew you'd end up on this."

He nods, understanding. "You do know me."

"And yet...there's so much I don't know. And so much you don't know about me."

"That's true. Although, to be fair, we could be together for years and still say the same thing."

"I've never been with anyone for years."

He turns the television off. "When was the last time you spoke to Charlie's dad?"

Maybe he's not as predictable as I thought; I _so_ did not see that coming. "Um...years. Not since the night we broke up. Why?"

Shrugging, he looks at his hands. "I just wonder sometimes if he's ever going to show up. I know I couldn't have a kid out there in the world, living without me, not even knowing who I was." He looks up at me. "Me not knowing who they were."

Something heavy moves inside of my chest, and I take a moment before responding. "I know. Me neither."

"Can you see him showing up?"

I think of Tyler's face that night, his words. "No. He was pretty vehement about not wanting anything to do with the baby. He wouldn't even call her a baby."

"Do you wish things were different?"

"Sometimes, for Charlie's sake...but mostly not. She has everything she needs. I mean, I believe things happen for a reason...as corny as that sounds. But I do. I have to. It can't all be this arbitrary blip, you know?"

He shakes his head. "I think things happen for a reason. I just don't always know what they are."

"Yeah." I pull my hair back, securing it with a clip from my pocket. "Have you ever had your heart broken?"

Nodding slowly, he focuses on the carpet. "Broken, stomped on, annihilated."

I wince. "Ouch."

"I was young and stupid...like we all are...I thought she was the one for sure."

"How young?"

"College. We dated for three years and then...she got pregnant."

My heart stops, my mouth goes dry.

"And I was ready, you know. To do it. Go all in. I was already all in. I loved her. My parents loved her. We got engaged. We were going to travel - I was already being courted to go pro and she wanted to be right there with me for as long as she could."

"So what happened?" I ask, almost afraid of the answer.

"Kid wasn't mine."

My mouth drops open. "Whose was it?"

"My roommate's. Peter Barry." Clasping his hands behind his head, he sits back. "Apparently they'd been going behind my back for half of senior year, but I was so busy with classes and soccer I didn't even see it."

While what happened with Tyler broke my heart in some ways, no one has ever hurt me that badly. I frown, unable to imagine.

"I pretty much stayed on Emmett's couch after that. We'd been good friends before, but...he really came through for me."

"I never knew that," I say softly. Em's always had a heart of gold, but hearing stuff like this turns me to mush.

"Took me awhile before I could even look at another girl. And then all I wanted to do was play soccer and party."

"Sounds pretty ideal for most younger guys."

"It was." Edward clears his throat after a brief, but not comfortable, silence. "You been thinking about it?"

"About what...you said?"

"Yes."

"I have." I've thought of little else, frankly. "I think we're on the same page."

His eyes search mine, and he reaches for me. I slide closer, tucking myself beneath his arm. "Well, if you want to, when the season's over, we can think about...moving. In."

"I'm not ready to live with someone," I blurt out. "I mean, I am, but...I don't want to just...shack up."

"Mm, old fashioned."

"Maybe. It's Charlie, but... it's me, too. Mainly me, actually."

"My mother will approve."

I peek to see if he's teasing me, but he seems serious. "Mine won't. She's always told me to test drive the car before buying it."

"So you don't want to test drive this?" he teases, pointing to himself.

"I think we've done enough test driving. I'm ready to buy."

He's quiet. I look up at him, and he smiles a little. "So let's buy."

* * *

"It's just casserole."

"It's really, really good casserole," Edward says, watching me scoop another serving on to his plate. I pretend his compliment doesn't make me sappy-happy. But it does.

I put his plate back down in front of him, still high from the rush this unexpected visit brought. He's been gone for two weeks, and was supposed to be coming home in five days. Apparently the team got a three day break between New York and Texas, and he's supposed to be recouping back east with the team, but he caught a red eye breath home...

_"__...because I wanted to."_

_"__Wanted to, huh? Must be nice -"_

_"__Because I wanted you." And he smiles...because I have no response for that._

...and leaves again tomorrow. His team's doing quite well, only two losses amongst a flurry of wins. I can't imagine playing as hard as they do for such an extended amount of time, but he says the same thing when he sees me up at all hours, baking and working and dealing with Charlie.

I start to move away, pausing when his hand finds the back of my thigh, fingers curling around, asking me to stay. Stuttered breath, goosebumps, my stomach does a little flip. I run my fingers through his hair, seeing him smile around his fork even though he's looking down. I suppose this is one of the benefits of his traveling: we always miss each other now; every moment matters.

Charlie wanders into the dining room. Edward squeezes me and moves his hand, resting it in his lap.

"Hey, Chuck."

"Hi. I saw your game. And Mom."

"You guys watched?" His voice is all innocent and Charlie-approriate, but he's smirking at me.

"Yah. Mom watches all the games. And she records them."

I shrug, not bothering to play coy. "You know I'm watching."

He nods, polishing off plate number two. "Okay, now I'm stuffed."

"I don't know how you ate two servings."

"I'm always hungry when I'm playing like this."

"You finished your dinner?" Charlie asks.

Edward nods, pushing away from the table a bit.

She dumps a handful of peanut M&Ms onto his placemat. "Okay, you can have dessert."

Grinning, he plucks Charlie up and puts her on his lap. "Sharing your M&Ms is a pretty big deal, Chuck. You sure you want to do that?"

She squirms, her cheeks bright pink. It's funny seeing her like this, so obviously enchanted. "Yah," she whispers.

I roll my eyes, giving his hair a tug. "She'd do anything for you," I say quietly, gently chiding because she's my baby and I want to protect her, but also letting him know the depth of her little-girl devotion. I don't know what exactly her perception of fathers is, besides what she's observed with Emmett or her grandpa, but the way she behaves with Edward is something new. For her, and for me. Encountering this side of Charlie is trippy because she _came from me..._ and yet it's something I have never seen.

I have waited for the day she'd ask me about Tyler, but so far it hasn't happened yet. Now it's looking like it may happen soon, or like even if it doesn't, she's making connections with Edward I hope he's ready to make, too.

We're a package deal, the reason I haven't let too many others get this close.

Collecting his plate, I leave them to their M&Ms and whispers, turning the corner as Edward says, "I'd do anything for her, too."

He makes a mess of me, of my tidy little life. And thank God.

* * *

I move slowly over Edward, knees locked around his thighs. His grip on me tightens, hands spanning my waist, gaze locked on mine. Like nothing could break it. There it is: this look he gets, an expression that I think about all the time when he's gone. It's his eyes. The first time we really made eye contact, like for real - for more than a couple of seconds during polite conversation - his eyes made my heart race. Literally. So now, when he gets _this_ look on his face, all I want to do it submit and succumb and just forget everything else. It's intense. It's dark and dirty and like he's thinking the lustiest thoughts, depraved even. It excites, _incites_. Makes me feel like the lucky one who gets this, feels this, has this.

We don't make love as often as we want to, but that's because he's been traveling. When he does come home, it's on - his house, my house, in the middle of the night with the TV on, in the kitchen with my socks on, in his bathtub with all the lights on. It's wicked fast, it's sultry slow, it's over in two minutes, it takes so long I'm sore. It's in an empty house, it's in a locked bedroom with a sleeping child down the hall because I've gotten over myself enough to deal with the fact that _this is my life now_ - all of it - and nothing needs to be mutually exclusive.

He lets me ride him slow and deep, and then he sits up, flipping me on to my back so that he can take it home.

In the morning, when it's so early it's still dark, I awake to find him dressed and packed. I knew it would be like this, but knowing he's about to be gone for another few days makes me ache.

"My cab'll be here in a minute."

Nodding, I sit up. "Do you want coffee?"

"No." He sits beside me, kissing my forehead. "Go back to sleep. I'll be back soon."

* * *

_**thank you for reading, **_**_everyone! much love._**

**_xoxo_**

_guest, i left you a note. in the reviews…as a guest._


	29. flare

**************__****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt**: Flare

* * *

"So, for your birthday..." I watch Charlie, waiting for her to look away from my phone, on which I've allowed her to play Endless Alphabet. I try not to lobotomize her with too much screen time, but long car trips are the devil.

She glances at me eventually, realizing that both me and the radio have shut off. "I'm hungry, Mom."

"Okay, but, hold on. I have some apples -"

"I don't want apples!"

"Well, you're not having anything else."

Charlie falls silent, frowning at the screen. I pluck my phone from her hands, well aware that driving while engaging in shenanigans with an almost-four year old is pretty much the opposite of safe.

"Do you want the apples or not?"

"Yah, Mom. Please."

I reach over into her backpack and grab the plastic baggie I prepared before leaving the house. Giving it to her, I adjust the radio so it's playing low. "All right. Charlie. For your birthday, do you want a Frozen cake or something with Peppa?"

"Peppa!"

I do an inner fist pump, though Peppa's a close runner up to Things I'm Sick Of. "Ok, great. We can do a pretty pink cake -"

"I want two cakes. Chocolate and vanilla."

"How about cupcakes?"

"No, Mom!" she cries. "Please!"

"Okay, okay. Cake it is." I glance at her in the rear view mirror, wondering about her sudden aversion to cupcakes. "But just one. With 2 layers."

"With M&Ms," she adds, probably because Edward shares her love for them.

We pull up to my father's house about fifteen minutes later. I take Charlie out of her carseat, sliding her backpack on so that she can carry it, and then grab the grocery bags from the trunk. Inside, the house smells amazing, like Sue's legendary chili. I meet my stepmother in the kitchen, where she's got Charlie in her arms as they peek into a pot on the stove.

"It's chili, Mom," Charlie informs me, wiggling to get down.

"Mm." Giving Sue a hug, I hand over the two loaves of french bread I brought. "Want me to get started with this?"

"Sure, sweetheart. Garlic's in the fridge."

"Okay. I'm just gonna go find Dad real quick."

She hums her approval and I walk through the house, following the sound of my daughter's excited chirping. I find them in the living room, where Big Charlie's showing little Charlie the new jigsaw puzzle he's started. He thinks she's old enough to start helping, but I have my doubts. I always detested puzzles as a child, though, so maybe I'm wrong.

"Hi, Dad," I say, bending to hug him, rubbing my cheek against his.

He grins from his chair, tapping a puzzle piece against the table. "Hey there, Bells. What's this I hear about two birthday cakes?"

"Yeah, right," I laugh. "It'll be a layer cake. Just one. Anyway, I'll let you know what day we're doing her party...depends on work and all that."

"Okey dokey. Let me know if you need help with that." He turns back to Charlie and the puzzle.

I watch them for a moment more; Charlie actually seems fascinated by the puzzle. Easing away, I return to the kitchen to help Sue make garlic bread and salad. It's been way too long since we had a family dinner at their house - Em, Rose and the kids should be here any minute - and I resolve to make time the way I used to. There's no denying that the growth of our business, as well as my relationship with Edward, has made me busier than ever. It's a juggling act, but I really want to maintain some semblance of balance.

The doorbell rings, and in run Embry and Makenna. In seconds the house Em and I grew up in feels a lot like it did when we were kids, full of noise and cozy cooking smells.

After dinner, we crowd into the living room with Sue's chess pie and coffee to watch recaps of the latest Sounders game. My dad's been getting more into it, saying he's actually watched a couple of Edward's games.

"Think he could get an old guy a ticket or two?" he asks, reaching for the leftover crust on Sue's plate.

It's his way of acknowledging the seriousness of my relationship. Looks like I need to tell him about our plans. "Definitely. Maybe we can go together."

* * *

Edward watches helplessly as I toss the goopy mess that should be a soufflé into the trash. It's the third one.

"What can I do?"

"Nothing," I whisper, squinting through tears of frustration. The soufflé I've been working on all morning keeps imploding and looking more like poop than something served at a classy evening wedding. It's been a couple of years since I handled the stuff, but it's never given me problems like this.

Also, my assistant Maggie - who is in her first trimester - called a little while ago to let me know she wouldn't be coming today. Her morning sickness, which has been sporadic, chose this weekend to flare up. It's been so severe over the past forty eight hours that she's en route to her doctor to see if he can get her a prescription for Zofran. I feel awful for her, because I remember my own morning sickness, but I feel bad for me, too, and the fact I now have to do the work of two.

Meanwhile, Charlie is being a terror and won't nap - in fact, she's in timeout again - and I'm tired from being up late, working on the wedding cake. And now? I'm going to have to run back to the store to get more supplies for the stupid, frigging soufflé.

Poor Edward should be asleep right now. After crappy weather back east, including a tornado, his plane was grounded until midnight. By the time he made it home via cab, we were asleep on the couch, dinner cold in the kitchen.

It's been a weird weekend, but what can I say? Sometimes life goes to shit.

But there's a bright side: Edward. I've missed him like crazy, so just having him here helps.

"Why don't you work on the brownies or something? Chuck and I will go to the store for your stuff," he says, gesturing, stepping between me and the chocolate splattered counter. "Make a list of what you need."

"Are you sure?" I chew my thumbnail anxiously. "There are very specific brands I use, and -"

"Then make a very specific list."

"Okay." I take a deep breath and exhale _really_ slowly, like i do in yoga with Rose...yoga I had to skip today because of today's food prep. "You're sure?"

"Yes." He walks out of the room, and a minute later I hear him jingling his keys. "Hey, Chuck. Want to come to the store with me?"

He's never taken her anywhere by himself. It's always the three of us together, going to dinner or the park...he still hasn't mastered her carseat. "Do you want to take my car?" I call.

"No," he calls back.

"What about the carseat?"

"I'll handle it."

I don't have the energy to fight him. If we're going to do this…be a team...he's going to have to deal with the carseat. "Okay," I say, swallowing back my argument. I quickly jot a list, double checking to make sure it has absolutely everything I need, and then hand it over.

Edward's by the front door with Charlie, buckling her sandals. "We're going to the store, Mom."

"I know, thank you so much," I say, handing Edward the list when he straightens up. "I'll uh, have my phone right by me. Call me if you have any questions. Any at all."

"We'll be okay," he says, kissing me.

* * *

By six o'clock I'm done for the day.

I take pictures of the sweets table - flawless soufflés and all - and pack up my stuff, eager to be gone before the bridal party arrives.

Exhausted, I make my way to the Aston Martin idling in the parking lot behind the venue. Charlie's asleep in her carseat, drooling all over her shirt, while Edward taps away on his iPad. "You're all set?"

"Yes." I nod, tucking myself gratefully into the passenger seat. "Thanks for bringing me."

"No problem." He smiles wryly. "It is, technically, my business too."

After the soufflé disaster earlier, I'd run perilously short on time. Instead of taking Charlie to Rose's while I worked, Edward drove me, helping me carry everything inside and then watching Charlie until I was done.

The whole day has been a lesson in the importance of backup plans. Between Maggie's calling out and Emmett's injury, we've been a little short-staffed. My mistake was assuming that because the wedding was so small, I could make do without extra help, but I was wrong. Mike had been in a similar pickle, working double time with his team to have everything set up on time.

"You hungry?" Edward asks, pulling out of the parking lot.

"Kind of. Yeah. Did you have something in mind?"

"Burritos."

"Like Taco Bell, or..." I'm goading him, knowing what a fast food snob he can be.

"Real burritos."

I smile, yawning. "Gorditos."

"Mind reader."

"Bit of a trek from this side of town." I look back at Charlie, but she's out for the count.

"Yeah. You down?"

My stomach growls. "So down."

We make the drive in good time, listening to the Arctic Monkeys album Edward recently downloaded. Opting for take out, he leaves us in the car while he runs into Gorditos, which is packed - normal for a Saturday night.

I must doze off, because I'm startled when Edward busts back into the car, loaded down with delicious smelling bags. "Sorry it took so long."

"It's okay."

We start driving again, but not toward home. Figuring there's another errand he needs to run, I don't think much of it until he turns into Kerry Park. It's one of the most picturesque spots in the city, and right now, with the sun about to set, it's at its most lovely. Several photographers have set up tripods and are snapping away, capturing the onset of evening as the Seattle skyline glimmers dreamily ahead.

"Come," he says, opening his door.

"What about Charlie?"

"We'll leave the car running. I just want to sit outside for a minute. Watch the sunset."

"Ooh, okay." As if I could turn that down. Grabbing the bags, I open my door and follow him out to lean against the hood.

We chow down in companionable silence. Guess I was hungrier than I'd realized.

"This is so good," I almost whisper, not wanting to disturb the quiet that seems to have descended over the park.

"I know..." He nods, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

The sun has set now, leaving the world a soft, dusky, silver.

Edward takes the now empty bags and sets them aside, drawing me close. "I did bring you here for a reason."

"Okay." My heart starts pounding, because, you know. I've seen movies. I've read books.

"I was going to wait until the end of August…the official end of the season..."

Pressing my hands against my jeans so they don't shake, I peek up at him.

He swallows, and then smiles, taking a little box from the pocket of his jacket.

As he opens it I chicken out and cover my face, completely overwhelmed.

"Bella?"

"Yes?"

"Look at me."

I put my hands down and turn toward him.

"Marry me?"

"Yes."

He thumbs the tears from my eyes before gently taking my left hand and sliding a ring onto my finger.

* * *

_***You - Gold Panda**_

_**you know, my husband never really proposed. i'll keep writing them until he makes up for it. ;)**_

_**thanks for reading. love you guys.**_

_**xo**_


	30. social

**************____****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Social

**Dialogue Flex: **"Isn't that always the way?"

* * *

The skyline twinkles. Clouds drift past the rising moon, dappling the night sky with shadows. Most of the people who were here a while ago have left, leaving us alone and on top of the world.

I have never felt this way. Never, ever.

I feel... younger - well, even younger than I am - and brand new. Naive and quixotic and in love with love. Full of hope and possibility. It's one of those rare feelings of absolute joy and contentment that never lasts longer than a few seconds, but it's magical when it happens.

"What are you thinking?" Edward asks, uncharacteristically shy-seeming.

I glance up at him sharply, expecting to meet that crazy intense green gaze, but his eyes are cast down. He is, however, smiling. "I...I'm kind of just coasting. Thinking about everything and nothing at all."

"That's helpful," he teases. _Now_ he looks at me, smirking, but his eyes brim with the same gladness I feel, mirrored.

"I don't know. I've always known I would end up with someone. Probably married." I shrug. "But it's happening sooner than I thought it would, and sometimes it doesn't seem real. Like I keep waiting for a snag, but...there hasn't been one."

"There'll be snags," he says quietly, pulling me closer, sliding his arm around my shoulders. "Just not between us."

I allow his words to settle into my heart. We can do this.

"Okay." I turn my face toward his shirt and bury my face in it. "How do you smell good after running around all day?"

"You don't want to smell me after a game," he says, and I feel his lips on my forehead.

"Probably not," I agree.

We stare at the city. I shiver, cooled by the night air.

"Hey, does Emmett know?" I ask, pulling back so I can see his face.

"About this?"

I nod.

"He knew I was going to ask."

"You asked him?" I sort of squeak.

"No," he chuckles. "Only person I've asked is you. I told him I was thinking about it...and then I told him I was going to do it."

"Why?"

"I wanted him to know, out of respect. But I wasn't going to ask, Bella. Imagine if he'd said no?" He laughs then. "You think it would've stopped me?"

I grin, imagining.

"But he's a true friend. My best friend."

"So what did he say? When you told him?"

"He said to go for it. I think he thought you might turn me down."

"What?" I yank myself away, standing in front of him. "Why?"

"I don't know." He shrugs, a smug little smile flickering across his face. "Probably because you're so independent. Self sufficient. I mean you wouldn't really even talk to me at first."

"Because I had a big old crush on you."

"Yeah?" He smiles at this news.

"Oh." I roll my eyes. "Come on, now. Yeah."

"Nice."

"Like you couldn't tell. You totally intimidated me."

"_I_ intimidated _you?_"

"You don't scare me anymore." Taking advantage of his position, I step between his parted legs and kiss him soundly. "But you still do this." I take his hand and put it over my heart, letting him feel how it falters and flies.

He copies me, bringing my hand to his chest. His heartbeat is strong, but definitely a little fast.

We kiss...

...until Charlie's muffled screech. "I needa pee, Mom!"

* * *

Engagement sex is good stuff.

We did it twice, and the second time? Took forever. I mean. Forever.

"I don't want to come yet," he'd said, and he looked _so good_ saying it I'd almost let him do his thing.

But, no. Making love til the break of dawn only works in R&B songs, so I'd...encouraged him...to just let go.

_Let it go. If I never hear that frigging song again..._

"Bella?"

Snapping back to the here and now, I glance guiltily at Edward. "Hey."

"You feel like being social?" He holds his phone against his chest. "Emmett's asking if we feel like coming over for brunch."

I grab my phone, looking at the time. It's nearly eleven, and we're still in pajamas. Whoops. "Yeah. That would be good. I'm starving."

"Me too." He winks, giving me a lascivious look as he leaves, returning the phone to his ear. "Hey. Yeah. Give us a half hour..."

A moment later Charlie sprints into my room and jumps up on to the bed, giggling.

"What's so funny?"

I get my answer when Edward jogs in, dives onto the bed, and commences with the tickling.

* * *

I'm staring at my ring in the car, at the way the sunlight glints off if it, when Edward clears his throat. "We can change it if you'd like something different."

"What? No. Absolutely not."

"It's surprisingly hard picking something like that out."

"I love it." I cradle my hand, running my thumb over the diamond, the filigree on the band. I'm no expert on engagement rings, or any jewelry, but I've never seen anything like this. "It's platinum, right?"

"Yeah." He reaches for my hand, tangling our fingers. "You're sure, right?"

His tentativeness is endearing. "Who would return an engagement ring?" I snort.

"You'd be surprised."

"Well. I really do love it. I love that you chose it for me."

"Mom," Charlie says.

I twist around in my seat. "What's up?"

"Can I see?"

She's seen it already, but I extend my hand back to her, letting her hold it. She seemed pretty mellow this morning when we told her the news, but at almost-four, I'm not sure how much she really understands. Sometimes she's incredibly astute catching on to things that seem too advanced, but then other times she's...well, four. It's a trippy, awesome, weird little age.

She knows Edward and I are getting married, but I suspect it's this sanitized, Disney scenario to her. Still, I doubt she'll mind us all living together; we spend lots of time at each other's homes already.

"I like this ring," she says. "I want a ring, Mom."

"You'll get one," I say. "One day."

"I'll get you your first ring," Edward says as we pull up to a light.

"Oh, no you don't," I mutter, straightening up. "No spoiling. She's too little for jewelry."

"She has earrings," he says, giving me the side eye. "What's the big deal?"

"Edward."

"Mom!"

"For your birthday, Chuck." He winks at her in the rearview and I can practically hear her giddiness.

* * *

It takes Rose about twenty minutes before she notices.

The kids are outside, running around, while Edward and Emmett chill on the patio. It's about to rain, though, so what was supposed to be a Sunday brunch out back is about to be brought indoors.

I'm cutting sourdough and pouring tiny tureens of milk and slicing strawberries and scooping Nutella when Rose trails off in the middle of her story about Makenna's friend's mother.

"Bella...?"

Smiling to myself, I pop the Nutella spoon into my mouth. "Whaff?"

"Holy..." She yanks it away and grabs my hand. "Is this what I think it is?"

"Yeah." It still feels surreal. "Last night. I didn't expect it - at all."

"Isn't that always the way?" she breathes.

"It feels so sudden. But Rose, I just know. I can't explain it. This is it."

Her hand goes to her mouth. "I can't believe it. Oh, wow. Bella. Wow."

Apparently engagement stuff renders us inarticulate.

Outside, the rain comes down with a sudden roar. The children run inside, talking and yelling, followed by Em and Edward, who join us in the kitchen.

Edward takes one look at Rose's goofy-girl face and my tractor beam smile and turns to Emmett. "We have something to tell you, bro."

I hold my hand out, fluttering my fingers like some corny socialite on a reality show. "We're getting married."

"Oh shit, she said yes?" Emmett says, laughing incredulously. "I thought for sure she'd make you wait."

Embry slips into the kitchen, tracking mud. "He said shit, Mom."

"Thanks - I heard him, word police. Could you _not_ wear those nasty cleats inside the house?"

Charlie and Kenna join in, adding to the general uproar, and then everyone's eating Nutella and talking and grabbing at my hand.

Emmett makes his way over and gives me a hug, ruffling my hair with his good hand. "I couldn't have picked a better guy for you, Bella. Congrats."

* * *

**_damn, that's a lot of sugar. even for me. ;)_**

**_thanks for reading, guys._**

**_xoxo_**


	31. discount

**************____****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Discount

* * *

On the day of Charlie's party, I decorate the backyard in pink and green streamers and balloons. The sky's blue, gently brightened by weak sunshine, but there was a ton of rain last night. Rose and I squelch through the saturated grass, arranging chairs and games and things, trying to work with what we've got.

Charlie's invited four little girls from her class at school. I'm secretly thankful she never really hit it off with Lauren Mallory's kid. Having them attend would've been massively awkward.

Looks like poor Embry's the only boy beside Edward and Emmett. He sits sullenly on the couch, channel surfing.

"He wanted to bring a friend," Rose says, filling a cooler with ice.

"That would've been okay," I say, shrugging.

"Nah. He'll be fine." She shakes her head. "It's only for a couple of hours, and I want him to help Charlie celebrate - not wreak havoc with his friends."

By two o'clock my yard is filled with music and the exuberant laughter of little girls. There's no real theme to the party, other than Peppa cake, so they sort of just run around, playing with the piñata and musical chairs.

Edward, my Dad and Emmett keep to one corner of the yard for the most part, and when one other dad comes along, they pull him into their dude-clique. Meanwhile Angie and the other moms - the rest of whom I know only very casually - ooh and aah over my ring and the "engagement story". I know they're all taken with Edward. Angie told me once, over coffee, that there's been talk about us ever since Nessa's birthday months back. The attention is fun, but it also makes me feel very self conscious. With the exception of my trip to LA, a lot of my relationship with Edward has existed within the bubble of our homes. Well, ours and Emmett's. A lot of the time we're busy working, so when we do come together we just want each other.

Things evolve, though. Now that we're getting married we'll always be one another's plus one, and that's going to include everything from Charlie's social events to Edward's high profile engagements.

Eventually it's time for cake, and then gifts. I'm not the biggest fan of opening presents at birthday parties, but today I'm outvoted.

Charlie, who's a total ham anyway, sits perched on a chair in the middle of it all. "Remember to say thank you, okay?" I whisper, grabbing paper and a pen so that I can remember who gave what.

"Okay, Mom."

"Don't forget."

"Yah, Mom."

Satisfied, I plop down on blanket beside her, handing over the gifts while Rose takes pictures. Edward hands her a little box at the very end.

I stare at him in disbelief. "You did not."

"What?" he asks, shrugging. "I said I would, and..." he leans close, running his nose along the shell of my ear, "I'm a man of my word."

I shiver, trying to maintain my irritation, and look at Charlie, who's ripping the satiny, pink wrapping paper with the grace of baby rhino. I rise to my knees, afraid she's going to fling the contents of the box in her excitement, but she slows down at the last second.

She peeks at Edward, little legs swinging from her chair, and opens the box. Nestled against the tissue paper inside is a delicate little ring. Upon closer inspection, I see it's a pale green heart set in silver.

"That's your birthstone," Edward's saying, but Charlie's bouncing around and making a big deal out of putting it on - her ring finger, of course - and screaming her thanks. She leaps from her chair and dashes to where he sits beside me, tipping into his lap.

"Thanks, Edward. Thanks!"

I glance up. Everyone's watching, smiling, looking all touched and sweet and amused.

"I got her a chain," Edward says to me. "So she can wear it as a necklace for awhile. Okay, Chuck?"

She nods, letting him slide the ring back off.

"Okay, Mom?" he asks, shouldering me.

"Okay." I nod, tempering my smile.

"You mad?" he jokes, threading it through a silver chain so he can put it around Charlie's neck. Parental conversations have resumed, and the other girls are clamoring around us now, their bare little feet clammy from wet grass.

"How could I be?" I murmur, soaking in Charlie's joy. She gives him a kiss on his cheek, starts to run off, returns to kiss me, and then leaves, followed by her little entourage. "You just made her day."

"I think _you_ made her day with all of this." He leans back, settling on his elbows. "I wasn't trying to discount your feelings. I just think she...deserves special things, too."

My heart squeezes, and I look down at him. "Of course she does. But Edward, special things at this age can be, like, a milkshake after school. You know?"

He cocks his head. "You guys are a package deal, right? Isn't that what you always say?"

"You fight dirty."

"Always." He tickles his fingers down the back of my jeans, making me grateful no one's sitting behind us.

* * *

On Monday, Edward hits the road with his team again. Saying goodbye is never fun, but it's easier this time...maybe because I know he'll back in four days. The Sounders have another, longer road trip coming up, but it's closer to October.

Summer's over, more or less, so Charlie's in school full time again. In another year she starts kindergarten, but for now she's back at preschool, chilling with Nessa and her other little friends. It's not hard to stay busy, because I take on extra jobs, some apart from the catering business. Em doesn't mind. Aside from keeping busy and genuinely enjoying what I'm doing, he knows I like the extra cash, making it and having it myself.

On Thursday night, I've just gotten Charlie out of the bath when my phone rings. Wrapping Charlie in a towel, I pluck it from my back pocket.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Bella? It's Esme."

"Hi, Esme." For second I wonder if she's calling about the wedding, which is still a small eternity away, not that you'd know it from her excitement and planning. When she doesn't say anything, I frown, balancing the phone as I towel dry Charlie's tangled hair. "Esme? Are you there?"

"Yeah, honey. Listen, I've been trying to reach Edward...his father's in the hospital."

"What? What happened? Which hospital?"

"Harborview. He..." She sighs. "He's been having chest pains."

Charlie squirms away and I let her go, leaning against the sink. "Is he all right? I mean, is he under observation or something?"

"He's stable. We think he had a small heart attack...they've been running tests all afternoon."

It's hard to imagine someone as healthy and vivacious as Carlisle Cullen suffering from heart problems.

I leave the bathroom, flipping the light off. "What can I do? Do you need me to come -"

"Oh, no. Nothing like that." She says something to someone else and then returns to the phone. "Are you picking Edward up tomorrow?"

"Yes, around four."

"All right. He usually calls me back, but I'm guessing he hasn't had time to check his phone. Please...just let him know what's going on in the event he calls you first."

"I will."

"Thanks, sweetheart."

"No problem. I'm here if you need me."

"I know."

We hang up. I stare at the dimmed hallway, at the pictures of my Dad and me, and then I give him a call.

"Bella? Everything okay?"

"Yeah, Dad. Just wanted to hear your voice."

* * *

_**why did i think the MLS season ended around august? hey, if any of you are soccer/football fans - feel free to enlighten me :) **_

_**thanks for reading...**_

_**xoxooxo**_


	32. kettle

**************____****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Kettle

**Plot Generator—Binding Blurb:** In 500 words or fewer, write a blurb or a short entry about** springing into action.**

* * *

In the morning, there's a text message from sometime last night. Edward was able to speak to his mother after all, because he managed to catch an earlier flight. Much earlier. I glance at the time; he'll probably be landing in the next half hour.

He won't get my response until he lands, but I peck out a message anyway.

_i'll be curbside. wait for me._

Charlie's already up, puttering around her room in her jammies.

"Hey, baby. Listen...we're going to skip school today, okay? We need to pick Edward up from the airport."

"Okay, Mom." She stretches, plopping back down on her bed.

Taking advantage of her sleepy acquiescence, I wrestle her feet into shoes and grab a jacket just in case. "We'll get McDonalds for breakfast, okay?"

"Okay!" She jumps up, energized by the promise of greasy delight.

There's no time for a wake-up shower. I brush my hair, trade sweatpants for jeans, and pull a hoodie on over my tee shirt. "Ready, Charlie?"

"Yah!"

She's amazingly cooperative when junk food's involved.

A light drizzle meets us the second we step outside. I pick Charlie up and jog to the car, getting us buckled up and on our way as quickly as I can. I try to explain the best I can that Edward's dad is sick, and that we're all going to go see him today.

Traffic's heavy due to a small accident on the interstate. We crawl along until we pass it, and then I speed up - a little; I have no desire to be in accident of my own. By the time we reach arrivals, Edward's already standing at the curb, talking to a couple of teammates. I pull up, rolling down the window right as he looks over at me. My heart gives a familiar thump when we make eye contact.

"Hey."

"Hey." His face softens into a grin, and glances back at his friends. "I'll see you guys soon."

They clap him on the back, offering words of support as he tosses his bag in the trunk and climbs in.

"I could've taken a cab," he says right away , pressing a warm kiss to my mouth.

I start to protest, to explain myself, but of course Charlie butts in, legs kicking. "Hi, Edward!"

"Hey, Chuck." He twists around, tugging on her foot. "What're you doing up so early?"

"I'm at the airport."

Having no reply for that, Edward snorts, majorly amused. "Imagine if we were like that. No bs; just, it is what it is."

Laughing, I shake my head. "Yeah, pretty sure only kids that age can it pull it off."

His hand lands on my thigh, and he squeezes. "So...as I was saying. You didn't have to come out. Not this early."

"No - I wanted to be here. I wanted to come."

He stares at me for a moment; I feel it, though I keep my eyes on the road. "Thank you."

"Sure." I rest my hand on top of his. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, considering. I don't know what to expect when I see him, though. He's never been sick. Ever."

We don't really speak after that, but it's a comfortable silence. He knows I'm here, and that I want to be. That this is what it's about.

* * *

At the hospital, Carlisle's been moved to another room while he finishes getting all of his tests done. I hang out in the waiting room with Charlie, trying to keep her entertained with magazines and quiet phone apps. Now that we're actually at Harborview, she's got questions. _What happened to Edward's dad? Why, Mom? Is he sad? Is he okay?_

"Looking like one more night," Edward says, emerging sooner than I exepct. "We can, uh...go."

"You sure? We can wait. Or I can come back for you..."

"No, actually, he's a little out of it." He frowns, clasping his hands behind his head. "Not out of it. Just really tired."

"He was probably up half the night being prodded and poked. No one gets rest in the hospital."

"Yeah." He nods, dropping his hands. "I just needed to see him. Make sure he was okay."

Taking his hands, I pull him into a hug. "I know."

After a while, Charlie squirms between us. I'm about to admonish her - this is about Edward right now - but he just tightens his grip on me for a second and then lets go, bending to pick her up. Our eyes meet over her shoulder. I don't know what he sees in mine, but in his, I see such affection. For me, but really - for Charlie.

I wonder how these things happen, if they are a gradual build or a series of moments. Or both, maybe.

"Anyway. I'm starving."

"Mom said McDonalds, Edward."

Edward makes a face.

"Food snob," I mouth.

"Is your Dad feeling better now?" Charlie asks. "Is he feeling happy?"

"I think so," Edward says, giving her a small smile.

I let him drive. We grab breakfast from the McDonalds nearest his place- oatmeal for him, of course - and then he heads home.

"You coming in?" he asks, taking his bags from the trunk.

I shake my head, tucking my hair behind my ears. "No. We left a little abruptly...so... I have a few things to do."

He nods, understanding. "Chuck going over to Em's?"

"No, actually. I was just planning on keeping her home with me."

"All right." He kisses me softly, resting his hand behind my neck, warm against my skin. "Well." Another kiss. "Thanks for coming."

"No problem." I kiss him back, not so softly.

* * *

Around five thirty, he calls.

Shutting the kettle off as it starts to boil, I grab my phone from the counter. "Hello?"

"Hey. What're you up to?"

"Just folding laundry. Making tea," I say. "Why, what's up?"

"Want to get dinner? We can go back to the park..."

It's still light out. On a whim, not to mention a genuine desire to avoid cooking, I agree.

After picking us up, Edward drives to this deli I've never been to. He swears by their bread, says it's made fresh there every day. We find a park and settle on the grass to eat while the sun sets.

Charlie eats half of her gourmet PB&J and kettle chips and then runs around, leaving her shoes beside me. I watch for awhile, admiring her little girl tan, the way the sun filters through the end of her hair.

"My mom was kind of a wreck last night," Edward says.

"Oh no. Really?"

He nods.

"She was completely calm when I spoke to her," I say, remembering.

"Holding it together. That's how she is. I called her as soon as I got her messages...and that was it. She started crying." He scrubs his hands over his face. "She was just really worried."

Edward's parents are incredibly close, always have been. I can only imagine how terrified Esme must have been, wondering if Carlisle was going to pull through. I know his heart attack was classified as minor, but some things are major just by happening at all.

"I hate feeling that powerless, you know? But it was a wake up call."

"For...your dad?" I ask. "To take care of himself?"

"Well, yeah. But I meant for me. I've been gone for years. Gone. And now I'm back, and I barely see my parents. We used to be so close."

"You're still close," I say. "But I know what you mean."

Sighing, he turns his attention to Charlie. "This," he gestures toward her, "happens so fast. Life happens fast. I don't want to focus on the wrong stuff. I don't want to miss it."

I pull him closer, and he submits, resting his head in my lap. For a moment we abide that way, in the gentle quiet, contemplating the words he just said.

* * *

**_xoxo_**

**_thanks for reading. i appreciate you guys._**


	33. appeal

******************____****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Appeal

**Dialogue Flex: **"It's not as bad as it sounds."

* * *

Edward's conflicted. I can see it now. Between visits to his father and training with the Sounders, he feels like he's being pulled in opposite directions. I can understand how he feels, but I guess I'm just used to multi tasking at its most extreme. Being a mom - a single one, at that - as well as working full time stretches a girl to her limits.

Still, having a sick parent is scary, no matter how old (or how busy) we are. The night Carlisle returns home, Edward stays the night at his parent's. And a couple of nights after that, Charlie and I join him for dinner there.

Esme and Carlisle have met Charlie a couple of times, and they've always seemed rather enchanted with her. Carlisle, especially, who literally gets on her level and has all sorts of whimsical, crazy conversations. It's like listening to Dr. Seuss.

"Is everything okay, Charlie?" Esme asks during the meal. "Do you need more juice?"

"Oh, she's fine, Esme," I interject, covering Charlie's cup. Last thing she needs is more kiddie crack at this time of night. "Thank you."

"I like juice," Charlie says, wiping her mouth...with a napkin, praise God.

"Yeah but...you still have a little left." I spear a piece of broccoli onto her fork and coax it into her mouth. She polished off her roasted chicken and mashed potatoes, but the greens on her plate remain nearly untouched.

"Chuck."

Charlie looks at Edward, grinning broadly when he stands all of his broccoli up in his potatoes, creating a tiny forest.

Rolling my eyes, but not even pretending I don't love it, I glance at Esme, who's watching them with utter adoration. It's been like this all night. I get the (very strong) impression) she's in grandma-mode, and more than ready for Edward to make her happy-family fantasies come true.

Charlie starts copying Edward, pushing her broccoli into her potatoes.

I tap her. "Promise me you'll eat it as soon as you're done. Okay? Don't play with it all night."

"Okay, Mom."

To her credit, she does eat it as soon as she demolishes it. "Okay, _now_ can I have more juice please? Please? Mom?"

"I think you've had enough."

She gives me puppy dog eyes to go with her appeal. "Please, Mom? A little bit. One more little bit."

"I can give her milk," Esme offers.

Shaking my head, I back down. "That's fine."

Esme stands, offering her hand to my daughter. "Why don't you come with me and choose a special cup?"

She's as bad as Sue. Sighing, I turn my attention to Edward and Carlisle, whose conversation appears to be growing slightly heated. To say I'm taken aback is an understatement. Typically, Carlisle's about as jovial as Edward is mellow.

"...and you won't. You won't throw it away," Carlisle almost snaps, frowning.

"I'm not throwing anything away. This is _my life_," Edward says, jaw tight. "Things change."

"That's a big change," Carlisle says.

Uncomfortable with listening to their discussion now that Esme and Charlie are in the kitchen, I collect my plate and Charlie's. Edward's eyes flash to mine, full of apology, but I just give him what I hope's a reassuring smile and leave. I don't know if this has been going on since Carlisle was in the hospital, but Edward's been...different lately. I hate saying he's not been himself, because we all have so many layers and facets, but the calm that usually underscores his personality is gone.

In the kitchen, Esme's giving Charlie a dainty little pink glass half full of milk. Mentally crossing my fingers she won't break it, I set the plates down beside the sink.

"Have they been fighting a lot about this?" I blurt out.

Esme sighs heavily, crossing to listen at the door. She shakes her head after a moment, smiling wryly. "Really, it's...not as bad as it sounds. They're a lot alike, so they agree on most things. But they're both also very stubborn. Edward's quieter than his father, but just as passionate, so when they butt heads on something..."

"It's important."

"Yes. It is. It's a big decision for Edward. He's always loved the game, and he's given a lot of his life to it. And we're proud of that. I don't want to see him throw that away out of some misguided sense of responsibility to Carlisle and I." She nods toward the door. "That conversation's been a long time coming."

I nod, mulling over her words. "I see where you're coming from. But…I get where Edward's at, too. Maybe things have been fast for him, for a long time, and he's realizing he wants to slow down." That's been the intention I've gotten, anyway, talking to him.

"Perhaps."

"What are your hopes?"

"For Edward? Just that he's happy doing what he loves. Whatever that might be."

While that's a very nice concept, it's vague...diplomatic. I want Esme to feel like she can be real with me, but I also understand that we need to grow to that point. Suddenly Edward's desire to spend more time with his parents takes on even more meaning for me. I want that for him, but I want it for me, too. Just like I want him and my dad to get closer.

"True," I say carefully, watching her. "But..."

"But you want to know what I really want?" She shrugs. "I want him home. But more than that, I want him to make the most of his career. Carlisle and I both feel strongly that he make his decisions based on what's best for him...and now you. Not what his parents want. Expectations like that can be unfair."

I nod, thinking of Charlie. He'd always supported my decisions, even when they'd taken me far from home.

Suddenly the kitchen door swings open. Edward strides in, Carlisle hot on his heels, startling us.

"You ready to go?" Edward asks, feeling for his keys.

"Right now?" I ask. I mean, obviously right now, but I really don't want to leave on this note.

"He _just_ got back in the game," Carlisle mutters. "I don't think he should be making such emotional decisions."

"Is there any other kind, Dad?"

I touch Charlie's arm. "Hey, you about done?"

"You can't stay for dessert?" Esme asks, gesturing toward the chocolate cake n the counter. Charlie's eyes bug out, and I have to admit, so do mine.

Edward snorts when he sees our faces, and the tension in the room dissolves. "Now I see where Chuck gets her sweet tooth." He leans on the counter beside me, sliding his arm around my waist.

Carlisle winks at me, setting a stack of small plates next to the cake.

I lean in to Edward. "And now I see where you get that wink."

* * *

In bed, later, Edward come to me quietly. I can tell there's a lot on his mind, can read the divided attention in his face, hear it in his voice. We make love slowly, wordlessly, kissing and kissing.

Afterward, side by side, we hold hands and talk until we fall asleep. He tells me what I already know: that he's conflicted, that his heart wants too many things and he's got choices to make. He doesn't ask me what I think, not yet, and I don't tell him. He's probably as afraid to ask as I am to tell.

Although, there is one thing that's been on my mind. One thing I do know.

"I think," I begin, blinking in the darkness, "we should move the wedding up. From summer to spring."

"Or winter. January."

"It'll be cold."

"And rainy, but that could be any time."

"February."

"March," he says.

So, spring. I smile. "March."

"Deal."

* * *

_**winding down now, slowly.**_

_**thank you, so much, for reading. and for reviewing - i love when you share with me…i've heard the funny, the sad, the crazy and the quirky stories of nicknames, proposals, relationships…it's great. ;)**_

_**xoxoxo**_


	34. balloon

******____****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompts: Balloon, cartoon, maroon**

* * *

Because Edward was on the road for my birthday, he insists on taking me away for a weekend in early November to make up for it.

"Have you been to Vegas?" he asks, meeting my eyes in the mirror as he shaves.

"No."

"Do you want to go?"

"Anywhere with you sounds good."

He smiles. "We can bring Chuck."

My heart warms. "I.. I'd like that. I don't want to leave her any more than I absolutely have to."

"I know." He leans down to rinse his face. "Neither do I."

He tends to be careful with his feelings and behavior toward Charlie, but I think things have been unfurling quite naturally between them. If he's home when I'm putting her to sleep, he helps me tuck her in. Kisses, bedtime stories - we share these little rituals now.

And getting a carseat for the Aston Martin - that was a milestone. He wrestled that thing into the backseat and now he doesn't have to deal with it anymore. Charlie, of course, loves his car. She says he plays the good songs, which is funny because he refuses to play anything Disney related.

Go figure.

Meanwhile, I've been looking at houses. Edward says he has little preference in terms of style, but that he likes the area we're in, if not even a little closer to downtown. I've lived in this townhouse since coming back to Seattle, so the prospect of moving into a bigger, more private place with a giant backyard and all that good stuff is really exciting.

I make an appointment to go look at one the Tuesday after our trip. Edward will be in town for another couple of days, and I'd rather go see the houses with him if possible.

* * *

Charlie's never been on a plane.

She vacillates between extreme excitement and nervousness, gripping my hand with alarming strength when we start rolling down the runway.

The second we lift off, though, she's on cloud 9. Literally, almost.

We're flying first class, where the flight attendants gush over Charlie and make eyes at Edward. And, yeah, they're decent to me, too.

After a drawn out, stage-whispery story about a princess pig who lives in the clouds, Charlie turns her attention to a cartoon on the private TV in front of her. I adjust her headphones and take a sip of coffee, yawning.

"I always stay up late packing. Always. You'd think I'd be better at this by now," I say, leaning toward Edward.

He nods, putting his magazine down. "Yeah. It's different when you have to pack for other people, though." He glances at Charlie, and then back to me. "Way different."

"Everything's different when kids are involved. It was hard when I first had her and all of my old friends were still out partying." I think back, remembering. "That was a lonely time."

He nods. "I thought Em was crazy when he and Rose got married so young, you know? Thought for sure it was because she was pregnant..."

I smile, remembering that, too. "Well. That certainly sped things along, but...they'd been planning on getting married for awhile. When you know, you know."

Our eyes meet. "I know."

His words have more than one meaning, and I appreciate them all.

Las Vegas is just as fabulous and loud as everyone says. Colorful billboards and signs, crazy traffic, fantastical buildings...it's overwhelming. We're staying at the Bellagio, which is like a vacation in and of itself.

"Jeez, we don't even need to leave," I laugh, gaping at the opulence. From the landscaping to our oversized suite, everything is bigger, brighter and better than I imagined.

Neither of us are big gamblers, but Edward knows the city pretty well. After visiting our room, we take a walk down the Strip, where we duck into toy stores and an ice cream shop. A man creating balloon animals makes a little pink pig for Charlie, and another sketches her likeness, right down to the maroon and pink pony "tattoo" on her cheek.

She's in complete awe of it all, and so am I. Eventually, though, the sensory overload catches up to her, and she starts dragging, rubbing her eyes.

I touch her arm, bending down. "You doing okay? Tired?"

"No, Mom," she says, yawning.

I scoop her into my arms, hoisting her on to my hip the way I did when she was little. She's a little sticky from the ice cream, but I love her Charlie scent, the way she feels fitted against me. I suspect I always will.

"Want me to carry her?" Edward asks, resting his hand on my lower back.

"Sure." I smile up at him, my heart sappy with love and gratitude, and hand Charlie over.

Things were good when it was just Charlie and me. But there's no denying how much sweeter they are with Edward.

Back at the hotel, Charlie perks up when the famous fountains of the Bellagio start their show. Edward puts her on his shoulders so she can see, and I snap pictures on my phone - mainly of them.

We head back to our room afterward, where Charlie takes a bubble bath of epic proportions in the jacuzzi style tub.

"I've been here a dozen times, and it's never been the way it was today," Edward says, standing at the window overlooking the lights of the city. Night has just fallen, and the dark, still softened by dusk, flickers randomly from all of the neon. "With you."

I go to stand beside him, linking my arm through his. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

I nod, watching the scene below. It's as busy now as it's been all day, and I know that it'll just continue getting crazier. After a moment, I peek up at Edward.

"What're you thinking about?"

"Season's almost over."

I nod.

He blinks, glancing down at me. "I may be getting an offer to play for LA Galaxy."

"Wow." My stomach tightens, but just for a second. No matter what, I'm in. All in. "They're a good team."

"Understatement." His eyes crinkle, and he smiles. "But...I'm not taking it."

"Why not?" I ask, quietly.

"Among other things we'd have to move. And I can't move." He shakes his head. "Don't want to. Do you?"

"No."

"In some ways, I'm still getting used to being home. I can't just...uproot everything again."

"I can imagine."

"I like being based in Seattle..." He turns toward me, leaning against the window, eyes searching mine. When he speaks again, it's tentative. "I don't want to stop playing."

"I don't think you should," I admit, looking at my hands. I've wanted him to work through this on his own, knowing that if he gave up soccer because of me, I'd always be afraid of his resentment later on. I know what it's like to give up, even when it seemed necessary. It's never easy.

But neither is this. It's never been easy, this balancing act he's got going, and it'll continue to test us, try us.

And somehow, I have total peace with that.

"You knew I'd make this choice, didn't you?"

"I kind of hoped you would." I shrug, looking at him. "It's what you were made to do, and I love watching you do it. I think that's all your dad wants, you know? To watch you do what you love. The other stuff...we'll figure it out."

He nods slowly.

"We just have to take this day by day. Or season by season; whatever. Your dad's going to be fine. _We'll_ be fine. And...if anything happens, we'll just...deal with it."

"Promise me you'll always talk to me, just like this."

I smile, thinking of a similar conversation, months ago, on his birthday. "I promise."

There's a big splash from the bathroom, followed by a giggly, "_Mooooooom!"_

Edward closes the drapes. "I'm starving."

"You're always starving," I say, heading to the bathroom. "I'm hungry too, though."

"Room service?"

* * *

We order a veritable smorgasbord of food and have a feast with Charlie on the bed. When she starts to get droopy eyes again, I haul her off to brush her teeth.

"No, Mom," she sighs, eyes closed, leaning limply against me while I work a toothbrush through her mouth.

She's asleep in her bed before I've even left the room. Edward and I take quick shower, kissing, touching, but saving sex. Everyone knows hotel beds are the best.

But afterward, I get side tracked by the wine Edward had sent up while he takes a phone call. I can tell, by his words, he's speaking to his mother, and then Carlisle. Things have been calmer since the dinner when they argued. Edward says they respect that he has to make his own decision, that he has to figure out what's best for him.

"They said hi," he says, hanging up a moment later.

I nod, setting my glass of Pinot Grigio down. "How's your Dad?"

"Good. Sick of kale."

I laugh, thinking of Esme's dietary crusade for better health. "Can't say I blame him."

"I like kale."

"Of course you do." I smirk.

He tosses his phone aside and dives on to me, pushing my bathrobe open and descending on to my neck.

Giggling uncontrollably, I try to bite and tickle him back. "I like kale too! I swear!"

"Mm." He gives me a nibble and backs up. "I got something you'll really like."

Tightening my legs around his hips, I hold him in an iron grip. "Yeah?"

"Definitely more of the meat variety..."

"What a horndog," I snort, shaking my head. "Your euphemisms are so-"

He kisses me, shutting me up. I scratch my nails gently over his back, up into his hair, relishing his shivers. Easing off, he sits me up so that he can slide my bathrobe fully off, and then he joins me, naked and warm.

"Lock the door," I whisper.

He jumps up, locks it, and crawls back up the bed, stopping with his face between my legs. I bite my pillow when I come, welcoming him inside seconds later.

"God, I love...you. Love...how you feel," he pants, dipping down to kiss me.

"Love you too," I gasp, trying to keep my eyes open. Sometimes he just feels too good.

* * *

**_thanks for reading._**

**_xoxoxo_**


	35. savage

**********__****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Savage

**Scenario: **The only way you'll get me to go is...

* * *

In the morning, Charlie wakes up before we do and crawls into bed with us. She used to do this all the time with me, but it's a first for Edward.

Half asleep and slightly shell-shocked, he stares across the bed at me, pushing Charlie's wild-child morning hair from his face.

"Good morning," she trills. "Good morning!" Snow White in the forest with her animal friends comes to mind.

Groaning, I squint at my phone. Seven o'clock.

"I guess we should be happy she slept this long," I say, pushing the sheets back so I can get up.

Edward blinks sleepily at Charlie, listening as she rambles about her day yesterday...as if we weren't there with her the whole time. Chuckling, I make my way to the bathroom.

When I come back, Charlie's jumping on the bed. "I'm hungry, Mom!"

I grab her and squeeze her till she giggles, then toss her back on to the sheets. "Yeah, me too. We should go somewhere cool since we stayed in last night."

Edward nods, yawning again. Poor guy. Once we're married, his days of sleeping in are _over_. "It's your birthday...anything you want."

"It's your birthday?" Charlie echoes, excited.

"Not really. We're just celebrating it now."

"It's my birthday again too."

"We already celebrated yours." Sitting on the edge of the bed, I turn to Edward. "Okay, so, what about Payard Patisserie and Bistro? Alice says it's the bees knees."

"Does she, now?" Edward sits up, rubbing his eyes. "Never been."

Charlie slides off the bed. "The bistro, Mom."

We catch a cab to Caesar's, where the restaurant is located. It's a little ritzy looking, which makes me nervous because of Charlie, but she behaves herself, seeming to sense that this isn't the sort of place for shenanigans. Fabulous and French, it's replete with crepes and croissants and croissants we completely stuff our faces with.

"What do you want to do today?" Edward asks afterward, as we stroll down the sidewalk.

"I don't know; you're the expert here." Shading my eyes, I look around. "Any ideas?"

"You think Chuck would be into the Botanical Gardens? There's a pretty cool conservatory back at the Bellagio."

Sounds right up my alley, but I don't know about Charlie. She seems open to it, though, and we spend the next hour walking around and taking pictures. It's a lovely change of pace from the freneticism that is Las Vegas.

We hit up M&M's World, of course, where Edward and Charlie run around, filling up bags of overpriced (and, okay, really cool personalized) M&Ms, and then catch a cheesy bus tour so we can see the sights. We sit up top, of course, where the view is the best.

"You tired?" Edward asks later on, as we swing Charlie between us. "There's one thing I have to do while we're here."

"What?" I ask warily. We've been good about keeping our activities family friendly and PG, but Edward's got an almost savage gleam in his eye right now.

"The Stratosphere. Best views in the city."

I glance at Charlie. She seems okay, not too worn out quite yet. "Sure, why not?"

Well. The moment we step off the elevator at the Tower, I get why he's so excited. I like roller coasters as much as the next girl, but there's no way in hell I'm getting on any of these rides. They're dangling...above...everything. No thank you.

Edward grins at me. "We can turns; I'll hold Charlie while you-"

"Um, no. The only way you'll get me to go is by drugging me."

"Really," he says, teasing. This version of him - carefree, silly, mischievous, almost - reminds me a lot of Emmett. Suddenly I can totally imagine what they were like in college.

"You go ahead," I say, picking Charlie up. "We'll watch."

By the time we're back on the Strip, it's starting to get dark. By this point the long day has started to catch up with everyone, especially the kid. Edward's trying to hail a taxi when I'm near blinded by "A Little White Wedding Chapel". Actually, it catches Charlie's eye first when a bride in a resplendently 80's dress and her groom glide across the sidewalk and into a cab, a flurry of rose petals in their wake.

"Mom!" Charlie cries, rushing forward to pick up a petal.

I tighten my grip on herhand. "Um...those are probably kind of dirty. I'll get you your own flower, okay? A little later."

She frowns.

"Come on, Chuck," Edward says.

He generally always takes her side, so i suppose this is a rude awakening. That, coupled with the fact that she's way overtired, sends her into tears. I'm exhausted myself, and so not in the mood to deal with this.

"Ugh, Charlie." I pull her to the side of the sidewalk. "I know you're tired, but don't start."

She sniffles loudly, already splotchy and snotty nosed.

Edward crouches beside us, and before he can say anything, she flings herself into his arms, blubbering.

"What a drama llama," I mumble, rolling my eyes at the melodrama. "Maybe we should just call a cab. Get back faster."

"Please, Mom, can I have a flower?" She's on Edward's shoulders now, wiping her face on her arm.

"Later. Promise.."

She takes a deep, shuddering breath. "Okay."

Edward turns, peering up at the sign, and then back at me. "Want to?"

"Want to what?" I ask slowly.

"Do it." He points up.

"Elope?!"

"Yeah." He grins, giving me a once over. "Why not?"

"What? No way!" I hit his arm, but he has this look on his face...a hopeful one. "Wait, for real?"

I look at the chapel, so awesomely tacky and Vegas. The thought of it sends legit flutters all through my body. "But...I don't know." Rose and Alice come to mind. My Dad. Sue. Esme! She's already got a notebook - a wedding planning notebook.

"Hey." He extends his hand to me. "I'm in, Bella, either way. We can do it now or in March."

"It's just, your Mom..."

"Yeah." He wrinkles his nose. "She's nuts for this sh-stuff."

I glance up at the sign, the neon heart...and cross. "I mean, I want to..."

"We'll keep it a secret."

"Yeah, because that always works!" I laugh. Suddenly I'm _really_ excited. We could do this. Actually do it. Be married. Forever. _Oh, God. _"Okay."

His eyebrows pop up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Let's do it."

"Let's do it, Mom," Charlie says, but she's staring at something across the street, completely clueless.

And so we totally do it.

* * *

_**yes, i'll go into that tomorrow ;)**_

_**thanks for reading!**_

_**xoxoxoxo**_


	36. harness

******************____****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Harness

**Plot Generator—Phrase Catch: **Easier said than done.

* * *

Taking Charlie down from his shoulders, Edward opens the door and ushers us inside.

"Is this church, Mom?" Charlie asks dubiously, glancing around.

I get where she's coming from. It doesn't look too much like the churches she's seen.

"Kind of. I mean, yeah." I tug on Edward's arm. "Hey, go ahead and see what needs to be done, okay? I need to chat with Charlie for a sec."

Once he's gone, I bend down, taking Charlie's hands in mine. "So...you know I love Edward. A lot. And you love him, right? And he really loves us, too, and we're going to get married."

"Yah, Mom." Seeming to sense my seriousness, she maintains eye contact although I'm sure she'd rather be looking at everything else.

"But this is a special wedding today. For you and me and Edward. Our little family."

"A little family." She nods, pushing my hair from my face the way I always do hers. "I need a flower."

"You'll get the flower. But listen... this is our secret. Because we're still going to have the big wedding back home, right? Where everyone gets dressed up?"

"Like two birthdays," she says sagely. "Two parties."

"Exactly." I hug her, hoping she keeps "the secret" but knowing she might not be able to. I mean, she's four.

Edward joins us as I rise. "The marriage license complicates things. They said we could do a commitment ceremony, though."

"What's that? Like a wedding without a marriage?"

"Kind of," he laughs. "It would be official for you and me, just not in the eyes of the law. Which is kind of pointless..."

"It's not," I say, taking his hand. "Not for me. This is..." I swallow, shaking my head. There's so much I want to get across. That while this was spontaneous, it's no less significant. For so long, it's been just me and Charlie. It seems almost appropriate that adding one more to our little family be between just us. Well, us and the rest of Las Vegas. "Perfect. For us."

Eyes softening, he nods. "I just want to be with you, Bella. I want to wake up next to you..." He glances down at Charlie. "And, I guess Chuck...since she's a bed hog...for the rest of my life."

Overcome with sappiness, tears prickle behind my lids. Another couple, dressed in matching baseball jerseys, passes by, smiling broadly. "Congratulations, guys!"

They leave before we can really respond, and we burst out laughing.

Needless to say, we're not the only couple getting married today.

One wedding party is going all out, the bride and groom in a traditional dress and tux, flanked by their bridesmaids and groomsmen. Others, like us, aren't even wearing fancy clothing.

"Is this your first time?" An old lady asks me, right before we head into the Crystal Chapel.

"Yes," I say. "Are you...getting married, too?"

"Oh no, honey." She beams at the silver haired man to her left. "We were married here in 1961. We just renew our vows here."

"Every year?"

"Every year." Her husband smiles serenely at us, nodding.

"That's...wow. Happy anniversary," I say, in awe of their life together. I want what they have.

The old man reaches up to pat Edward's shoulder. "Take care of each other. That's all. That's the promise. Talk to each other, take care of each other."

Edward nods, clasping the man's wrinkled, freckled hand between the both of his. "We will. Thank you."

Their names are Emily and Samuel, and they make up the small group of witnesses inside our chapel. Our ceremony is pretty basic. We secure small bouquets of roses for Charlie and me, as well as a photographer to capture it all. Edward's eyes turn red, which of course makes me cry. Even though our union will only be recognized legally with a marriage license, which we'll deal with in March, the vows are the same. I'm committing my life to Edward, and he's committing his to me.

It's one of the best days of my life.

* * *

"You think she'll keep it a secret?" Edward asks later, when we're sharing strawberries and champagne in bed. It seemed like an appropriate, if not awesomely corny, way to end the day.

"Easier said than done." I glance down at my favorite of today's photos, the three of us cheesin' it up in the Crystal Chapel. We've already decided to return next year to renew our vows at the Drive-Thru Tunnel of Love. Maybe it'll become an annual pilgrimage, like the elderly couple we met today. "Sometimes Charlie mentions things I didn't realize she even knew about, and then other times it's like it never happened. I have no idea...and I almost feel bad for even asking her to keep it a secret."

"Really? She seemed excited about it."

"Maybe." I shrug. "Like I said, you never know with Charlie. I don't regret it, though. I feel like...I don't know. I always put others first. And it's fine...no regrets. I think I've made good choices. But today feels like it belonged to us. When we do this for real it's going to be...huge. It'll be for everyone else. And I'm okay with that. I'm just glad we did this."

"Today was for real," Edward says, cocking his head. "We don't need a piece of paper to tell us what we already know."

In any other context, his words could feel like a cop out, but I know exactly what he means. And I couldn't agree more.

Early the next morning, we fly back to Seattle. Charlie's ruthlessly energetic, as small children tend to be, while Edward and I remain subdued, thanks to a long night of _celebrating_ in bed. The champagne probably didn't help.

Sandwiched between a sleeping Edward and a little girl engrossed in cartoons, I spend the flight lost in thought, thinking about the ways my life has reinvented itself over the past year.

I think of Tyler, wondering what he's up to these days. Wondering if he ever thinks about the child he doesn't know. Wondering if he knows what he's missing. I doubt he does.

I think of Charlie and how her feelings for Edward have morphed from a baby crush to genuine love and affection. And how his have grown from fascinated amusement to true devotion.

I think of Esme, and how hard I'll work to make her happy with our upcoming wedding. She just wants to be involved, so how can I begrudge her? I'm excited about it too, even though I'm secretly relieved we got to share our vows privately first. God works in mysterious ways, so it's probably a good thing we couldn't get the marriage license in time. The two ceremonies will share equal significance to me, but other people might not see it that way and rocking the boat is just not something I want to do.

Grandpa Charlie...he's the easy going one. He'd probably prefer not having a fancy wedding at all, but that's not happening.

Sorry, Dad. I'm going to have my cake and eat it, too.

* * *

The real estate agent sweeps her arm dramatically. "And just look at all of this space. Look!"

Oh, we're looking all right. This house is a dump - definitely not the way it looked online.

I try my best to maintain a neutral expression, but Edward's a little more direct. "Not sure this is what we're looking for, Victoria, but thank you. We'll be in touch."

She hides her disappointment well, ensuring we have her contact information before we go our separate ways. In the car, I sag against the window.

"I really hoped...that would be the one."

"I know; me too."

It's the fourth house this week. I know house hunting takes time, but I can't help but feel disappointed. I want to hurry up and do this - start this next phase of our relationship. Our life. For someone who spent years being cautious and taking things meticulously slow, I find myself anxious to take chances. Leaps of faith, I guess.

Edward's going running with some of his teammates, so he drops me off at Em and Rose's, where my car is.

Rose answers the door seconds after I ring the doorbell, motioning for me to come in. We haven't had much time to chat since I got back from my "birthday weekend", so I'm looking forward to a little down time with her. She's on the phone right now, though. I have about an hour before I need to pick up Charlie, so I pour myself a cup of coffee and sit down, appreciating the rare quietude.

Emmett, whose arm is fully back to normal, is out catering a banquet with Mike and the team. I text him, asking how it's going, and he responds a moment later, letting me know it's great, that everything's going smoothly.

Rose joins me a minute later. "Sorry, Bella. That was Makenna's dentist...there was a mix up with her appointment. Anyway. How was the house?"

"Not cute."

"Aw, really?" Wrinkling her nose, she sits at the table with me. "That sucks."

"I know." I sip my coffee, blowing on the steam. "Back to the drawing board I guess."

"We'll find something," she says. "And then we can take turns hosting barbecues...and I use 'take turns' lightly, because you know how competitive Emmett is..."

"Oh, I know." I smile, rolling my eyes.

"He's ridiculous," she says, but she's smiling too, eyes bright with indulgent affection. "He wants to go zip-lining for his birthday."

"That sounds fun!"

"In Costa Rica. Because, you know. _You_ had a destination birthday."

I shake my head, because, really - it's Emmett. Of course.

"Yeah," Rose continues. "He's been looking at Go-Pro cameras online for like, a week. Says he's going to hook it on to the harness and film his journey through the tree tops."

"It'll probably be amazing, to be honest," I say, imagining. "You bringing the kids?"

"Don't know yet; might be a little expensive, but I don't want them to miss out on something like that."

"When was the last time you and Emmett took a trip together?"

"Alone? Not since our honeymoon."

"Well, there you go. I'll keep the kids if you decide to go alone."

"Okay; we'll talk about it." She grins, tapping the table. "So, how was Vegas? You guys do anything crazy?"

* * *

_**xoxoxo**_

_**thanks for reading ;)**_


	37. blind

**********__****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Blind

* * *

I love the holidays. I went through kind of a cynical phase the first year I was a mother, but since then I've regained some of the wonder I had as a kid. Having a child of my own does that, I think. And this? Is the first holiday season in years where I have _a date. _

Not just any date, either - a better-than-a-place-holder, consistent-plus-one, about-to-be-my-husband, date. He's a special brand of sexy when he goes business casual or preppy, in v-neck sweaters and dress shirts and scarves and things. Seeing him all dressed up makes me want to just strip him down and have my wicked way.

"You're the hot girl next door," he says, eyes raking appreciatively over my classy - but rather sexy - red Christmas dress.

"And you're the trophy husband," I say, wondering how I'm going to get through the candlelight service at Sue and Charlie's church while sitting beside this guy.

Generally, Thanksgiving and Christmas are busy times when you're a caterer. Besides the usual birthdays, weddings and anniversaries, there are office parties and school parties and administrative parties and just...everyone's having parties. Between my crazy schedule and Charlie's preschool having a variety of "free days" due to the season, she ends up spending lots of time with her Aunt and Uncle. I know she's happy there, and I enjoy my job, but I miss her. I'll be glad when things slow down again.

Meanwhile, the Sounders finish off a great season, but they don't make the playoffs. While Edward's not happy about this, he doesn't react as dramatically as I feared he would.

"You okay?" I ask one morning, over a quick breakfast. We're both rushing: I've an appointment at ten, and he's taking Charlie to see another house. Maybe that's one benefit of the season being over for him: he's had more one on one with her.

"Yeah." His eyes meet mine over our coffee mugs. "Why?"

"We haven't really talked about it too much, but you can tell me if you're like...bummed out. About not being in the playoffs."

He shrugs. "It's always going to be disappointing. Kind of anti-climactic...but a year ago I didn't think I was going to be able to play again at all. So...you know. Perspective."

I watch him closely, trying to determine if his words are genuine or if he's simply trying to encourage both himself and me - I wouldn't blame him one bit if that was the case - but no; he's being real.

"I admire that about you," I say.

Surprise flickers across his face. "What?

"Your...positivity. Your perspective."

"You know I have shit days, babe."

"Yes, but you don't wallow."

"Wallowing's for pussies," he jokes. "Seriously, though, to play at this level you _have_ to have your mind right. Otherwise? You'll never make it. A lot of guys are so blind to that; they think it's about their footwork, their game...and it is, to an extent. But the guys that stick around are the ones who learn to control what's here." He taps his temple. "That's all it is. A lot of people defeat themselves mentally way before they're ever defeated on the field."

"That's so true," I say. "And that goes for life in general, I think."

He nods. "My dad sees it all the time at the hospital. The will to live, or even just heal, versus giving up."

"Wow…yeah." That brings it to a new level, but he's right. "Anyway...there's always next season."

"Always."

* * *

Emmett, Mike and I are in the middle of an anniversary banquet the next day when my phone rings.

"Edward?" Shouldering the phone, I adjust the heating on one of the serving dishes.

"Hey. I know you're busy, but I think this is it. We found it."

By "we", he means himself and Charlie. I smile into the phone. "Yeah? It's nice?"

"Understatement. It's perfect. The area we wanted, two story, huge yard...everything the profile said."

"That's great!" I whisper loudly, turning to avoid the stern gaze of the event coordinator. "Edward, listen, I have to go."

"Hold on; when do you want to come see this place?"

"As soon as possible."

"I'll let Victoria know," he says. "Maybe we can come back tomorrow."

First thing the next morning, we meet Victoria at the house. It's even prettier in real life than it was in pictures. I just hope I feel the same way about the inside.

It's an older home, built in the early 1900s, completely updated and remodeled. Gleaming wood floors, an abundance of windows and skylights. The back yard is huge...possibly bigger than Emmett's...and the deck is stunning, overlooking trees and the lake.

The kitchen. _The kitchen. _It's a chef's wet dream. I'm already seeing the cakes I'll bake. Next Thanksgiving's turkey. All the things.

"Is that...vintage stained glass?" I whisper reverently.

"Yes." Victoria smiles, nodding."Yes, it is. The original."

We sign that day...

...and move in during the first week of January. Because of this, I spend New Year's Eve surrounded by boxes. Charlie runs through our mini yard for the maybe-last time, streaking by with the sparklers we bought her. Last year she was a little nervous around them. This year, she's all about them.

Merging two households is even more complicated than it sounds, with doubles of everything and furniture and stairs and just...ugh. Moving is hell. Thankfully, Edward shows his (usually dormant) trust fund roots and hires moving men. They not only move our stuff, they help pack it in the first place.

Despite the hired help, friends and family show up in spades. Sue comes to cook for everyone, with Grandpa Charlie in tow dragging a cooler full of beer. Emmett, Mike, Rose and Jessica come, as do Alice and the mysterious Jasper, who we've heard so much about. Many hands make light work, even with rowdy children underfoot and everywhere.

Emmett begrudgingly admits that we now have the bigger yard. He awards the honor by promising to install a tire swing. "And we'll build a tree fort in the summer." No mention of a trampoline, interestingly.

* * *

"Mom. Nessa has a purple room," Charlie says on our first morning in the new house. I'm guzzling coffee, trying to mentally prepare for the day. We made a lot of progress yesterday, but settling in takes time and few things stress me out like messiness and not knowing where to find things.

Distracted, I nod. "Yes, she does."

"Can I have a purple room?"

"Um...I guess. I thought you liked pink?"

"Yah, Mom. Pink and purple. And blue."

"Oh." I put down my phone, trying to be present even though my mind is in a million different places right now. "Well...we have a lot to do, but, we can definitely paint your room. Maybe later in the week."

"I need to paint it, Mom."

"Paint what?" Edward appears, tossing two slices of bread into the toaster.

"Her room."

"Which one is that again?"

"End of the hall upstairs...the one with the cute, funky window..."

"Hmm."

Charlie shifts on her chair. "I need to paint it, Edward. Nessa has a purple room."

I push her bowl of oatmeal closer. "Eat up before it gets cold."

"I don't like raisins, Mom."

"It's cinnamon raisin," I say, because you know. It matters.

"Okay."

"If you want to run down to the store and pick a few colors out, we can get started painting today," Edward offers.

"I...kind of wanted to deal with the house first," I say, back on my phone, skimming my to-do lists. Plural.

He raises an eyebrow. "Well, it's up to you, but I think it'll be easier to paint her room before you decorate it, don't you?"

"Yes, fine. You're right." Suppressing my almost OCD urge to stay home and organize, I nod at Charlie. "As soon as you're done we'll go get paint, okay?"

"Okay!"

* * *

I suppose I can add painting to Edward's list of talents. He makes it look easy.

Charlie's in there with him, "helping", while I stay down the hall, working on our bedroom so it'll be a little more comfortable tonight.

For the past twenty minutes, airy little giggles have been floating down the still-empty hallway, followed by the deeper response of Edward's voice. Finally I can't take it anymore. Getting up, I tip-toe down the hall and peek in.

Edward's got Charlie on his shoulders - one of their defaults. She's got a little paintbrush to his giant roller, and they've covered most of one wall in an almost pearly bubblegum pink. It's a little intense, but...it's Charlie. The other walls will be pale pink.

That's the plan, anyway.

Edward dips his roller and then "accidentally" dashes it against Charlie's leg - making her giggle - making him apologize - making me realize her legs are covered in pink. As is his hair.

"Nessa helps her dad paint," she says quietly, stretching to reach a random high spot on the wall with her brush. "She has a purple room with purple paint."

"You're gonna have a pink room with pink paint."

"Yah." And then she curves over his head, resting her chin. "Dad."

* * *

_**thanks for making this such an awesome ride, guys. almost done. many, many thanks for reading and corresponding!**_

_**xoxo**_

_**ro**_


	38. stump

**************__****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Stump

**Dialogue Flex: **"Hold down the fort while I'm gone."

* * *

Even with all of the windows wide open, and a fan on, Charlie's room smells strongly of paint. Edward doesn't think it's that big a deal, but I'm weird and worried about it, so we set up an air mattress in what will probably be a guest room. Charlie's not so bummed about the sleeping arrangements when she sees the size of the mattress and all of the blanketing and fluff I fix it up with.

I drop a teddy bear on top and tug Charlie back out of the guest room. "Okay. All done."

She nods, finger in her mouth, pink paint speckling her cheeks like face and arms like freckles.

"You need a bath," I mutter, glancing at Edward, who's making my heart skip for different reasons tonight. "Both of you."

He gives me a crooked, little smile. "Yes, Mom."

Charlie laughs at that, wrapping her arms around my leg. "Yah Mom!"

"There should be towels in our bathroom," I say, poking Edward's pink hair.

"All right, all right, I'm going." He swoops down, kissing Charlie's cheek, and then gives me The Wink on his way out.

I'm giving Charlie a shower, scrubbing her down, explaining the difference between a wash cloth and a pouf, but my mind is stuck on a loop: Charlie calling Edward "Dad". I don't know if it's something she's been thinking about for awhile, and then decided to test today, see if maybe she liked the way it tasted...or if it was a slip. I don't think it was a mistake, though. Charlie's little, but she's intentional. Most kids are at this age.

Honest. Uncalculating...well, about stuff like this, anyway. (Incidents of cookie thievery and mess making notwithstanding.)

"Mom?"

"Yeah, baby."

"I'm clean. But you don't have to comb my hair."

"You know I do."

"No, Mom," she whines, trying to wiggle away as I work conditioner through her wet curls.

"It wouldn't hurt if you held still," I say, knowing it's futile. I can remember my mother brushing my hair and how much I hated it as a little kid.

After that, and a prolonged episode of tooth brushing, a glass of water and several books, Edward and I tuck her in. We've done this as a trio before, but tonight he seems extra attentive, watching us share kisses and whisper good night prayers. He kisses her too, once on each cheek.

"Night, Charlie..." I say, patting her.

"Night Mom. Night Edward."

"We'll finish your room tomorrow, okay?" he says. "Sweet dreams, Chuck."

"Okay...Dad."

_Oh man_. Swallowing the insta-lump in my throat, I straighten up and turn the light off. Switching the night light on, I back out into the hall, where Edward's leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets. He still manages to be terribly appealing, even with pink splashed across his jeans.

Our eyes meet. He reaches out, pulling me closer, and I lean into him, wrapping my arms around him. For a long moment we stay, just like that.

* * *

We're downstairs, showered, curled up on an old couch in a new living room. Boxes, boxes everywhere, and a half empty bottle of wine on the floor between our feet.

"She said it earlier, too," Edward says, looking down into his wine glass.

"I know," I say, almost hoarsely. "I...heard her."

He smiles a little.

"What do you think about it?" I ask.

"I don't know. I mean in some ways she's like my little buddy, but then in other ways...she feels like...a lot more than that. Like..."

"Yours?"

Chuffing quietly, he lays his head back. "It's not like I haven't wondered if we'd ever reach that point. Because I have."

"But it caught you off guard."

"Kind of." He squeezes my knee. "This is big for me, Bella. Before you guys I'd never given much thought to being a father - it was always this abstract concept… but now…I don't know. It's…heavy, but instead of making me feel tied down it makes me feel connected. Now I can't imagine not being with Chuck. Hearing her say that... I liked it. A lot."

Closing my eyes, I think back to how I felt earlier. "I liked hearing it."

* * *

In the morning, Edward heads out right after breakfast to run errands. "I'll be back by lunch," he says, kissing me.

Charlie wrinkles her nose, only to get a kiss of her own. "Be good, Chuck. Hold down the fort while I'm gone."

"Yah."

The door slams and then it's just us, in the sun drenched quiet of our new kitchen.

"Man, I have so much to do today..."

"I want to go outside, Mom. Outside. Please?"

"Charlie..."

"Mom. Please? For a little while."

I really want to stay in and continue my manic organization, but it _is_ blissfully sunny out and I suppose it would be a shame to waste that. "Okay," I say, a bit reluctantly.

"Okay!" She starts sliding out of her chair, but I stop her with a look.

"Finish your cereal first, though."

She shovels the rest of it with admirable rapidity and scurries off, yelling something about shoes and socks. I rinse the breakfast dishes and stow them in the dishwasher, glancing at the clock. I'll give her one hour outside. And that's it.

Three hours later, I'm sitting on a tree stump near the edge of the yard, watching Charlie dance, spin circles and climb trees. I can't remember the last time I vegged out like this, and while my to-do list looms over my head, the day is too lovely to ignore.

I even brought my book out, and water bottles to quench inevitable thirst. Charlie finally frolics my way, pitching herself down in the grass.

"I want to sleep in my pink room."

I fold the corner of my page and close the book. "Let's finish painting it...and letting it dry. Then you can sleep in there. Promise."

"Okay," she says glumly, as if it's going to take forever.

My phone chimes with an incoming text: Edward's on his way home. Do we want sandwiches?

_Yes_, I type. _Boar's Head turkey and cheese, pls._

"I want to do the flowers, Mom."

"What flowers?"

She's kicked her shoes off, and is now pointing her toes toward the sky. "In the new wedding."

Yikes. We've had a couple of close calls where we thought the jig was up. "Baby, you know it's just the _only_ wedding, right?"

"But...you..." she says, frowning at the sky. "We had a wedding."

"It was a special ceremony. And I feel very married to Edward. But the real wedding is going to be in a few months and you can definitely do the flowers. You're the flower girl."

"Okay. We can have a pink cake. And Mom."

I get up, stretch, and then plop down next to my daughter. "What?"

"I love Edward."

"I know you do, baby." I roll over and kiss her face. "I do, too."

* * *

_**thanks for reading. hope you mamas out there had a sweet mother's day.**_

_**xoxo**_


	39. satchel

******************____****All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Satchel

**Plot Generator—Idea Completion: **Strike while the iron is hot.

* * *

"Mummy," Charlie says, examining her pale pink fingernails. Normally I'm not into nail polish on littles, but this is a special day.

I lean closer to the mirror, inspecting my eye makeup. "'_Mummy'_? What is this, England?"

"Mummy, what's a satchel?" she asks, sounding suspiciously like Peppa Pig.

"A satchel's like a backpack," I say, laying on the British. "In fact, why don't you ask your Daddy - I'm sure he knows all about satchels from his time across the pond!"

Alice glides in, looking at me like I've lost it. "Why're you talking like Harry Potter?"

"What's across the pond, Mom?" Charlie's back to her old, American self.

"Um, it's England. Alice, where's my dad? He said he'd be here by now..."

"Talking Edward off the ledge, probably."

I stare at her reflection in horror. "He is not."

"No, he's not," she giggles.

"You're a real -" I mouth the word _bitch _"piece of work."

"Sorry, couldn't resist. Honestly, I've never seen a groom as relaxed as Edward. He's _all _about this."

I think back to our cheesy little Vegas commitment ceremony. Of course he's all in. We both are.

"Bells." My father rushes in, face red with exertion.

"Your ears must've been burning; we were just wondering where you were," I say, turning to look at him. "Is everything okay?" A thousand equally crappy scenarios flitter through my mind; I've catered _a lot_ of weddings...I know how many things can potentially go wrong.

"No, no. Everything's fine. Your, uh, mother was being a little fussy with the caterers."

The irony. "Ugh, really? Where is she now?"

"Right here," Renee says, joining us. "And I wasn't fussy, Charlie." She rolls her eyes, finally looking at me. "I was suggesting. The cake looked -"

"You were telling the people doing the sweets table what to do? Nice, Mom," I laugh. My mom, man. What a handful.

Sighing, she comes to stand beside me. We stare at my reflection in the mirror, me, the blushing bride, and Renee, the dewy eyed mother. Very cheesy rom com movie. _Cue the wedding montage._

"Anyway," she says pointedly. "I've waited for this day forever."

"I think that's my line."

"Shush, honey. Listen. I've been waiting forever for this and I just want it all to be perfect. And it is. It is! Esme's lovely. And I'm just...so happy. So happy for you. Edward's a good one. And good looking too." She gives me a rather suggestive look, which - along with the rambling - makes me wonder how much champagne she's had already.

"Yeah, he is," I agree.

She grins, turning so that she's looking at me directly, and kisses my cheek. "Congrats, honey. Proud of you."

"Thanks, Mom," I whisper, smiling. "Love you."

And I do. She's flaky and unreliable, and half the time I have no idea where she's flitted off to, but she's my mom.

"Love you too." She pulls Charlie into our mirror picture, hugging her close.

Alice clears her throat. "Okay, ladies. And gent. We're ready when you are."

* * *

When I think about the day I married Edward, memories and moments come back to me hazy flashes. Not because I'd imbibed too much, but because there were just _so many_ of them. I think mostly about the flower strewn aisle and the handsome guy standing at the end of it.

I see the smiling, and at times teary, faces of the people I love most...and then a couple hundred others I don't know at all. It's overwhelming at first, more guests than I would've planned for or imagined on my wedding day, but it's not bad. It's just different. They're Edward's people - old friends, teammates and family members - and by the end of the night I feel like they belong to me, too.

I remember the sweets table, overloaded and bursting at the seams with sugary deliciousness. My cake tasting as divine as it looked. Tiny pink pig cookies for the children in attendance, compliments of my daughter's persistence.

Seeing Edward through the eyes of the people that have always known him, just by listening to the toasts.

Charlie dancing with Edward...and then with Grandpa Charlie. Me...dancing with Edward. Slow songs between the two of us, fast songs in the middle of everyone else.

Sometimes when I look at Edward, I see the hot guy in Rose's doorway nearly a year ago. He'll laugh at something someone says, or eye me from across the room and my heart will leap because _wow. I caught a good one._ But then he turns toward me, and those eyes soften, and I feel it deep inside...and he's way more than a sexy, inked soccer hunk. In fact, the way he looks pales in comparison to how great he is underneath it all.

The way he looks doesn't matter at all. It's the way he looks at me.

Sometimes things fall apart so that they can come together in better ways, and sometimes it takes years. Disappointments - Edward's injury, my failed relationship with Tyler - have the potential to transform into triumphs if only we're patient.

I tell him his on our wedding night, when we're falling asleep.

"I know," he whispers, kissing my hair. "I know."

* * *

It doesn't take long for news of the wedding to make the rounds. I mean, it was a huge wedding, and Edward's just famous enough that certain media outlets care what he does. Sometimes. It's always weird seeing blurbs about him or highlights of games he's played on the sports channels.

It's especially surreal when I'm mentioned. We're on our honeymoon when Rose emails me a link to an article in an online sports publication. There are details about the guest list and venue beside an older shot of us at a game together in LA last December. Being the wife of a professional athlete is actually different than being the girlfriend of one. It's occasional, but people in the most random situations recognize me, recognize us. It happens more in places like LA or New York, where celebrities matter. It's rarer in Seattle, thankfully.

I'm making popcorn for movie night when the doorbell rings. I frown at the clock; it's eight thirty. Wiping my hands on a dish towel, I walk to the front door and squint through the peep hole.

A pretty blonde in an expensive looking red coat stands on the other side. Puzzled, I step back and start to unlock the door, right as Edward catches up. "Hey; who is it?"

"I'm not sure..." I swing the door open "Hi, can I help you?"

The blonde grins widely, her eyes straight going over me and right to Edward. Before either of us can say anything, she smiles and whips open her coat. "Hey, Edward."

For a split second, I'm so flabbergasted that I just stand there. Then I slam the door and spin around, gaping at Edward.

"Who the hell is that?" I sputter right as he laughs, "Was she...naked?!"

"Completely." I check the peep hole, but our flasher has retreated, scurrying back toward the sidewalk.

I start to open the door so I can give her a piece of my mind, but Edward grabs me, stilling my hands. "Bella-"

"No, Edward - she obviously wants a reaction, so let me strike while the iron is hot!"

Full on belly laughing, he wrestles me away from the door, pausing to double lock it.

"Do you know her?" I ask, watching through the window as the taillights disappear.

"Thankfully, no."

"Why isn't this bothering you more?" I ask, starting to giggle. It's just all so ridiculous and random. "She's obviously a complete psycho fan."

"Exactly. She's nuts." He laughs, shaking his head, and then we're both hysterical, collapsing on the couch.

"Has that ever happened to you before?" I ask, slightly indignant despite my amusement.

"Have I been flashed?"

"Yes." I gesture toward the door. "I mean, in that context. She, I mean...that was a proposition."

"A couple times." He clears his throat. "In hotels, usually."

"Ew."

"Yeah."

"How do they even know where we live?"

"Public records, I guess. Groupies can be cunning."

"Ugh. Maybe we should invest in tighter security."

"Beyond an alarm system? We could invest in an invisible fence...maybe a pair of pitbulls..."

I throw a pillow at him, satisfied when it glances off his face. "I'm serious."

"Okay, okay." He lobs the pillow back. "Tomorrow."

"Good." I stand up. "Popcorn?"

"Yeah, what happened to that?"

"I don't know - why don't you ask your little friend out there?" Smirking, I return to the kitchen, where I toss the thankfully still-warm popcorn into a bowl. I pop two beers open, and then, at the last minute, strip down to my birthday suit.

"What do you want to watch?" he asks, flipping through the movie channels.

I set his popcorn down and step between him and the screen. "I don't know; what do _you_ want to watch?"

* * *

_**sorry this is late. super sleepy last night.**_

_**special thanks to the sweet, lovely reader (you know who you are! thanks, lady!) who shared this flasher story with me. this actually happened to her when she was dating a prof athlete. truth is stranger than fiction, man. i just had to use it, lol.**_

_**no, we will never see the flasher again. this was purely gratuitous.**_

_**thanks for reading! love you guys!**_

_**xoxoxox**_


	40. clasp

**********_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._**

* * *

**Word Prompt: **Clasp

**Audio-Visual Challenge—Musical Mastery: **"Appalachian Spring" composed by Aaron Copland

* * *

**_about a year and a half later_**

* * *

Six o'clock already. I swear it was just two.

I've been stretched a little thin lately, having been working double time with Emmett for a series of events we've had scheduled for months. They were lucrative jobs, and we got great publicity, but I'm exhausted now and ready to veg out for a while.

At least, I'd like to. I doubt that'll happen any time soon.

Because Edward comes in tomorrow morning, and I promised I'd be at the airport to pick him up. The Sounders just won a pair of games in Las Vegas and L.A., so he'll be riding high and probably in the mood for victory sex.

_Yeah, I don't mind_ that_ being on my 'to-do' list..._

But also, Charlie's first soccer game is next week, and while she puts on a brave face, I know she's anxious to do well. Her team practices almost every day after school, and she loves it. It doesn't hurt that Edward kicks the ball around with her whenever he's home, sometimes even showing off in front of her team and giving them pointers.

It's a bit of a spectacle, but it's awesome. Sometimes Rose and I go just to watch. It's fun being a soccer mom when you do it in style.

"Charlie!"

She appears out of nowhere. "Can we take Pinkie Pie for a walk?"

"Again? We just took her out."

Pinkie Pie was Edward's latest birthday present to Charlie, a black, squirmy little Pug puppy who is way too adorable for her own good. As for her name, well. There's nothing pink about her, but these days it's all about My Little Pony - _MLP_ for those in the know.

"But Mom. She likes exercise."

"You can let her run around the yard later," I say. "We'll eat dinner on the patio."

She beams. "Okay."

"Charlie, listen -"

"Mom, I need my blue pencil. Please. The one with the sparkles. The one Nessa gave me."

"Isn't it in your backpack?"

"Oh..." Her voice recedes back down the hall. I follow her into her room, where she's rifling through her My Little Pony backpack. Starring Pinkie Pie. Of course.

"See it?" I ask, folding my arms as I lean on the doorway.

"Yah, Mom. It's here. Oh! My book..."

"Charlie, listen, we have to get going. I really want to get to the store before it gets too late."

"Mhm..."

"All right... I'll just go, then, and leave you here by yourself." I turn and walk loudly back to my room, not surprised when she scampers after me.

Downstairs, we practice with her shoelaces and then slip into jackets. There's a bit of a chill tonight.

"Can we make peanut butter cookies?" Charlie asks as we stroll through the grocery store.

"For dessert?"

"Yah. And for Dad."

"Sure. You can help, if you want."

"I want to."

"Good." Leaning in, I kiss her nose. "I like making cookies with you."

"Me too."

In the end, we make peanut butter for her and a batch of oatmeal chocolate chip for Edward. She insists on putting them in to a piece of tupperware that she then decorates with markers: flower doodles and stick figures and hearts.

I knew my daughter in every way there was to know her...until Edward came into our lives. He opened up a part of her heart I didn't even know existed - she probably didn't know, either - and I think...she did the same thing to him. She looks at him like he hangs the moon - for real.

It's why she wants so badly to rock during Saturday's game. She doesn't understand that just seeing her play soccer at all is going to make him proud.

* * *

In the morning, we head out to SeaTac. Because of school Charlie doesn't always come with me to get Edward, but today she's got an dentist appointment at ten so we would've been late anyway. It's like she's got ants in her pants - she's so excited.

Arrivals comes into view. It's a tradition now, to greet Edward with coffee and croissants. He grins when he sees us, waving goodbye to his boys before he tosses his stuff in the trunk.

"Want me to drive?" he asks.

Nodding, I climb out of the car, almost falling into him when he meets me on my side with kisses and a bear hug.

"I missed you," he murmurs, giving me a little tongue.

"Wow, yeah...I missed you, too," I say, squeezing him tight. "So much."

"Good...let's get home so we can...hey Chuck! Why aren't you at school, babe?"

I climb into the passenger's seat. "Her dentist's appointment, remember?"

"Oh, yeah..." He adjusts the seat to accommodate his height, and then the rearview mirror. "I should go, too. I'm a couple months late for a cleaning. Can I go with you, Chuck?"

She giggles, because she goes to a pediatric dentist whose office totally caters to the kindy set and under. "Yah. You can build Legos with me."

"Cool." He glances at steaming coffee in the cup holder. "That for me?"

"Of course."

"Perfect." He winks at me, merges into traffic, and takes a sip of coffee. "Let's go home."

Edward stays home to recoup while I take Charlie to the dentist. It's a pretty standard visit, and before long I'm dropping her to school. Having just made the age cut off, she now attends kindergarten with Nessa. It is so different than preschool, a fact I'm reminded of repeatedly as we walk to the office so I can sign her in.

"May I walk her to her classroom?" I ask the receptionist.

"That should be all right. Here, just take a volunteer sticker."

"Thanks."

We make our way to Mrs. Royer's classroom, where I hug and kiss my girl before letting her go.

And then I jump in my car, text Edward _ten minutes, _and race home.

Edward's already in bed by the time I make it up the stairs. I strip as I walk, leaving my jeans, sweater and socks on the ground.

"Hey," he says, peeling back the comforter.

"Hey," I say, climbing in...and on. I sit on him for awhile, touching him everywhere, kissing him, shivering as he runs his hands up and down my bare back. He runs his fingers through my hair, tangling it, tugging it so that he can kiss my neck and down.

Back and forth I move until we place him inside and then we move together, slowly at first. He fills me up in so many ways; loving him makes _loving him_ so good.

"Lie down," he whispers, easing me on to my back. He slides back into me, in control, one hand clasped with mine, kissing me until we need to move faster, harder. I reach down to touch myself, wanting to come when he's coming, or at least close, and he moves a certain way and that's it. My eyes flutter shut, and it's all feeling and sound: the rustle of sheets, my breathing, my cries.

His arrival seconds later is wet, warmth and a moan. After a moment he rolls off and runs his hand over my stomach.

"Needed that," he sighs, lazy with good love. "When I'm coming home, on that plane or that bus, all I can think about is this house and Chuck and you in it." He traces his fingers over my nipples. "You and this bed. You...sounding...the way you just did."

"Good, because when you're gone I stay in this bed and think about you until I'm horny and then..." I waggle my brows suggestively.

"You take care of business."

"I take care of business."

"I'll keep that in mind the next time I'm gone." He grins crookedly.

I push his hair from his face and kiss him again.

* * *

**_4 months later_**

* * *

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, yeah."

He shakes his head slowly, eyes wide. "Can you...I...how long?"

"I don't know," I say. "The doctor will be able to tell us for sure."

Edward sits down, staring at my stomach. Thanks to yoga, I've finally gotten it somewhat toned too...just in time for it to blimp out again. Oh well.

Silence. I swallow. "Are you...is this okay?"

"You crazy? It's better than okay." Reaching out, he takes my hands and pulls me closer so that I'm standing between his legs. "It's...perfect. Bella. It's perfect."

"Yeah?" I tip his chin up and gaze into his eyes, seeing everything I'd ever hope to see: love, awe, excitement, maybe a little bit of nervousness. It's okay - I feel the same way.

"Have you told anyone?" he asks, kissing my belly through my shirt.

"Just you."

"Good. We'll tell them together. Tell everyone."

I curve over him, kissing his hair.

"I can't wait, Bella." He wraps his around me, and I wrap mine around him. "Can't wait."

* * *

**_Afterglow - Wilkinson_**

* * *

**_thank you for reading, for taking this little journey with me. i appreciate you more than you know._**

**_see you around..._**

**_xoxoxo_**


End file.
